A Skirmish of Sovereigns
by TheGrimSqueekr
Summary: A rewrite of Clash of Kings if one, very obvious, illogical mistake had not been made. Catelyn Stark stays with Renly's Host. The story therefore, is radically different. I will try not to spoil anything else here.
1. Catelyn I

**A Skirmish of Sovereigns**

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><p><strong>Forward<strong>

This is, essentially, an attempt to fix one problem I had with George RR Martin's story. Specifically, the scene in Clash of Kings wherein Catelyn Stark leaves the scene of Renly's murder instead of standing for her honor and innocence, as well as the honor and innocence of Brienne of Tarth. As a result, the story starts En Medias Res, resulting in the extremely short beginning chapter as you see here. Thank y'all for your time.

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><p><strong>Catelyn<strong>

(page 315 of Clash of Kings)

...

"Ride", Lady Catelyn commanded her escort " and cut down any man who would stop you."

She turned her own horse towards the camp's center. Brienne turned to her "My Lady, are you not coming?"

Catalyn turned "If I ride with you, their suspicions shall be confirmed. They will not kill a Lady of House Stark, but they will gladly fell a lower lady. Now go."

Brienne's face hardened " I will not leave your side, my lady."

The escort, mounted still but not yet departed, looked anxious to a man.

Lady Catelyn breathed deeply, and said with a hardened look on her face "Then follow me" she said as she rode back towards Renly's tent.

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><p><strong>Notes<strong>

It's short because it's a rewrite of a paragraph in the book


	2. Tyrion I

**Tyrion**

Varys stood by the brazier, warming his soft hands. "It would appear Renly was murdered in the very midst of his army. His throat was opened ear to ear by a blade that went through steel and bone like soft cheese."

"By whose hand" demanded Cersei.

Varys smiled "Brienne of Tarth, if some are to be believed. She was some maid Renly had spurned, but she was in the tent of Renly when the blade was used, and was found when the body was recovered, along with Catelyn Stark. Lady Stark swears on her honor that Brienne was not responsible, and she willingly gave both herself and Lady Brienne to the Tyrells for judgment."

"And who does she suggest did do it, Spider?" Cercei asked pointedly.

"The rumor seems to be a shade in the form of Stannis. Personally my Lady, I believe neither Tarth nor Stark is not responsible for the murder. My sources indicate both women much too honorable to go so low as assassination, Brienne even seems to have had some sort of love for the Lord Renly, and cried out upon his passing."

Cersei looked displeased, "I am not interested in your beliefs, eunuch. Speak only if you have something worthwhile to say."

Littlefinger smiled "I would advise against that, my Lady, else he may never speak again"

Varys turned his attention to Littlefinger "If she asked the same of you then I wager the room would become awfully silent."

Tyrion interjected, " And what of the host of the departed, Lord Varys?"

"Most stay in Bitterbridge. The Lords of the Stormlands have gone over to Stannis, with all their blades in accompaniment, for the most part, but a fifth make with sir Loras for Bitterbridge. They await the trial of Lady Brienne, which is to occur there under Tyrell's judgment. Lords Tarly, Rowan, Penrose, and, of course, Tyrell all follow, with all the men they muster. About a fifth of the knights of the host follow him" Varys turned from the Brazier to take his place at the council table.

Cersei leaned forward "And is Lady Stark a part of this trial Varys, or has she returned home for the safety of Riverrun?"

"Catelyn Stark is said to be in accompaniment, though she is not accused. At least, not yet. She has sworn her honor as a Tully and a Stark that the accused is innocent, and has been using her escort to guard Tarth. Brienne is said to have requested a trial by combat." Varys looked at Cersei "Who the champion against her will be, I have yet to know, but she is to be championing herself. It is said that Loras could barely stop himself killing Lady Brienne when he had the chance. Only Lady Stark's intervention seems to have stopped him."

Littlefinger looked to Cersei as well " This is a difficult situation, my Lady. Loras now has a great host with him, but no king to support."

Tyrion stroked his chin, "I believe we may have an opportunity here. We may be able to convince the lords of the host to join our cause?"

Cersei turned "What reason could they have to do that?"

"Gold can be a powerful motivator, my Lady." said Littlefinger at once.

"For the lesser lords, perhaps, but we need the Tyrells. If we can align Highgarden with Casterly Rock and King's Landing, we will have more than enough to stop Stannis and Robb."

"And how do you propose to do that, Lord Tyrion? They hardly have any love for Lannisters" responded Varys.

"Why, the same way Renly got them to align with him."

"You would marry Lady Margaery to Joffrey?" inquired Littlefinger.

"Yes, I would." responded Tyrion

Cersei looked taken aback. "Joffrey is betrothed to Sansa Stark. With Lady Catelyn in their presence as a guest, it would be most difficult to convince them it is not thus."

"Betrothals can be broken, dear sister. It would be easy to convince Highgarden of this, especially with so enticing a reward. Lands, titles, and perhaps even revenge on Lord Stannis. I imagine Lord Loras would be happy to accept." Tyrion mused.

" I'm certain the king would not be quick to lose his word's honor." said Cersei indignantly

" I doubt the king thinks very highly of a traitor's daughter, dear sister."

" He sees her constantly."

"He had her gown ripped from her by Ser Baros" countered Tyrion

" She had upset him."

" So had the serving boy who spilt soup on him last night, the difference being the serving boy lacked nice..."

" It is not wise, Lord Tyrion, to speak so hastily of his grace the King" interjected Varys.

Tyrion allowed himself to settle down. He had wished to show the boy king some of the delights of the world after that business in the yard. He considered bringing him to Chataya's, but the damned hound stalked him constantly. Varys had offered to help on that front, however, as he just had now. Perhaps it was time for him to return his gratitude towards Lord Varys. What do spider's desire, he wondered. Perhaps a jar of bugs for him to eat, thought Tyrion jeeringly.

"Excuse me, good sister, that was out of turn. That said, the benefits of a Tyrell marriage are vast."

"Quite so my Lady," Littlefinger stated, " Stark brings only herself, where Margary brings the host of Highgarden."

"Perhaps he could set aside his love for Sansa, for the good of the realm." offered Varys, with a close.

Cersei had lost, "Very well then. Send for the leavings of Renly."

Varys spoke " Now is the matter of who to send to Bitterbridge to negotiate."

"It must be a member of the small council. The Tyrell's are proud, and will accept no less."

Cersei's haughtey smiled dawned, "Why, good brother, you are the perfect candidate. You have the voice of the king, you are his hand. And you have a mighty skill with words."

And leave you to plot in my wake, sister? I think not. "Dear sister, I believe that I must stay here to see to the affairs of the realm, and I doubt proud highgarden would see the kings dwarf uncle as anything less than an insult, whatever appendage of his grace I happen to be. No instead why not his grace's mother? It is fitting for a king's mother to arrange for her son's wedding."

Cersei looked defiant "The regent should not leave the king's side. Nor should the king's mother."

"If I may interject, Lord and Lady Lannister, I believe I may be of service here." Bealish. What could he stand to gain here? "I am not unskilled in the art of speechcraft, and I have very few responsibilities that supercede this matter."

Tyrion feigned consideration "The path is dangerous"

Baelish smiled, gods damn him "I am not a Lannister, and thus would make a poor hostage. Besides, I am certain a full complement shall be given to protect me. The Tyrells will require such if they are to deal with us at all."

Seven hell, he had us. "Very well. You shall have the matter written so that the Tyrells require no doubts on the matter. I'll arrange for a compliment, say 200 men and 20 knights? I believe that should suffice."

"Very well, I believe we are settled." Varys said, breaking his temporary silence, "I shall write up the arrangement immediately."

As the Lannisters moved to leave, Cersei turned to her brother "Your chain is growing I suppose"

Tyrion responded "Link by Link, ever stronger."

Cersei smiled "I misjudged you brother, you have proven to be a source of sage advice." She kissed his forehead chastely as she left the room.

Tyrion was stunned when he turned to Bronn "Was I dreaming or did my sister just kiss me?"

"Perhaps she has seen your charms" Bronn responded

"Perhaps she is planning something." Tyrion responded grimly, " I must know of it Bronn, I do hate surprises"

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

SORRY ABOUT THE OBVIOUS SIMILARITIES IN TYRION'S CHAPTER

I admit, it was of a lack of ideas on how to write the small council, but I needed the events to more or less match, with the small adjustments I have made. The chapters I have skipped remain unchanged. Now the real changes begin. Onwards! to Catelyn!


	3. Catelyn II

**Catelyn**

Bitterbridge was a not a large castle. Indeed it's timber and stone keep would pale in comparison to Winterfell, but the land here was low and flat, making it seem to tower over the land around it. Catelyn had stayed in a small room here overnights, her escort standing vigil over the door all night for fear of angry retaliation for the king's death. Her room was bare, save a small cot in the corner and some livery on the walls, but it did have a small window which faced west, into the Reach. She had been barely able to sleep the night previous, and found herself staring at the seemingly endless fires of the host gathered at the castle.

Now she stared out the window again, the many tents of the army were clearly visible to her. She wondered if they would still be there tomorrow, should the trial end in Brienne's acquittal. Catelyn was taken aback by how green the countryside was here, and the sweet scent of flowers wafted lazily into her room.

"My Lady, Lord Tyrell wishes to speak with you." came from the guard at her door

"Send him in" she responded, not shifting position.

Loras Tyrell entered wearing armor, sword at his side. He bowed his head to the lady before him. "Lady Stark"

Catelyn turned to face him "Lord Tyrell" she responded with a nod.

" I am here to escort you to the trial, my lady. "

Catelyn looked at his face. He looked angry, but his eyes looked sunken from crying. Perhaps his love for his king was greater than Catelyn imagined.

" I am honored my Lord" she held out her arm, which Loras took. They walked together with Catelyn's guards following close behind, also armored. They entered the same tournament grounds as the melee after Renly's wedding, where the trial was soon to commence. Courtiers were surrounding the ring and many lords from the surrounding army flooded the stands. Indeed it was as if the whole host was here to watch the trial. Towards the keep stood a small table under an overhang to block the sun, behind which sat five chairs, clearly for the nobles of the occasion.

Catelyn frowned slightly, noticing the amount of powerful Lords and the amount of chairs did not align. "Lord Tyrell," she questioned, "I count five chairs on the table but, I believe there is only you, I and the Lords Tarly and Rowan. Unless of course Lord Penrose escaped Storm's End?"

Lord Tyrell, still frowning, answered, "I'm afraid Lord Penrose has joined the cause of Stannis, my Lady. No, it is for my Lady Sister to sit."

Interesting. Catelyn had assumed that Margarey had left Bitterbridge to go to Highgarden, but perhaps she had stayed for the trial, or stayed for lack of readiness to leave. She was quite young however, this would not be a pleasant display for her.

As she took her seat, Catelyn noticed how ridiculous that thought was. She was about as old as Robb, and gods knew he had seen enough bloodshed to last a lifetime. Still, she would hate for Sansa or Arya to see such a horrible thing, though they probably had in King's Landing by now.

It was another 10 minutes before Lady Margaery appeared. Catelyn rose to meet her, and she gave a small curtsy in response. "My Lady Stark"

"Lady Baratheon" Catelyn responded. Margaery looked much the same as she had when Catelyn had been here last.

"Ah, but I am Lady Baratheon who no longer has a Baratheon." Margaery responded, too lightly for a grieving widow. It seemed to Catelyn that Loras' grave tone was far more similar to that. Perhaps Renly and Loras had been_ much _closer than she thought.

"You come to see the trial? I warn you it will be a bloody affair." Catelyn asked.

"It is only right for a widow to see the trial of her husbands murder, don't you agree?" Margaery responded. "Besides, blood is no stranger to a woman, my Lady, as I'm sure you know," The lightness in her voice not fading.

Following Margaery lords Rowan and Tarly followed, looking grim.

A trumpet sounded, and Lady Brienne entered the arena, looking not too disheveled despite her previous imprisonment. She was wearing the same armor as the day she won the tourney to become Renly's bodyguard. Loras looked furious at the gesture.

"Lady Brienne of the house Tarth, you have been accused of the murder of King Renly of the house Baratheon, First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. You have plead not guilty, and now the gods will decide your fate. Let the battle commence!" Loras sat down, somewhat to Catelyn's surprise. She had suspected that he would represent himself in these dealings as Brienne was doing, but instead she saw a knight wearing a Butterfly Brooch on his centerpiece. Lord Mullendore's son, then. An interesting choice on Loras' part, Brienne had more than proven her mastery in combat, and this lord was known more for his cheerfulness than his martial prowess. And his monkey. Indeed, Catelyn's own nervousness was likely unfounded, the only knight who Brienne need fear is the Mountain, and perhaps ser Barristan the Bold.

He held a black shield on his left arm, and a three foot sword in his right. As soon as he stepped on the field, whispers abounded throughout the stands. Apparently the host finds Loras' choice as troubling as she does.

Brienne shouldered her shield, her sword low to the ground. The butterfly knight charged her, shield leading. Brienne lowered, letting the blow glance off her shield over her. She responded with a sword thrust to the knights abdomen, which he deftly blocked with his shield, using the moment to make distance between the two. Brienne launched her counter attack, raining down blows so fast Catelyn could not make out her sword, but the knight parried all of them, even managing to put out a few of his own. Brienne grimaced and, using every muscle she could find, dealt a massive blow above the knights guard. The butterfly danced backwards from the maid, catching the blow with the hilt of his sword.

The knight threw his weight back into the blow, knocking Brienne off balance. The knight used his chance, throwing his own blows against Brienne. Eventually, Brienne caught parried a blow and fought for the initiative. The two began a fight for supremacy, with blows reigning against each other evenly, neither side able to gain the edge. This continued until the knight flew into a rage, bashing his shield against the champion, knocking her down. The crowd roared in delight. The knight raised his blade to deliver the final blow, but Brienne rolled out from under him. She rose to her feet, slowed by the armor, using the distraction to send her recovered blade into the knight's leg. He buckled to his knees, and Brienne drew her blade against the knights hamstring. Catelyn winced as she saw the blood from the knights leg. He may never walk again, like Bran. Brienne half-handed her blade, driving the point into her opponents back, knocking him flat on his stomach. Brienne moved to stand before his head.

"Do you yield?" Brienne shouted over the sudden gasp from the crowd.

The knight did not respond, only sending a flailing blow into Brienne's knee, toppling her as well. The opponent struggled to get to his feet, but Brienne was faster. Her blade cut into the knights visor, blood spurting out in response.

A silence fell over the crowd, as a knight ran out into the field. "Flowers!" he shouted, and Catelyn recognized him as the knight who once fought Brienne, the real lord Mark Mullendore. This knight must have been the bastard of the Uplands. Catelyn turned to see her host's reactions.

The two noble lords looked fairly dejected, where Loras looked ready to kill. Margaery had turned her head slightly, as if to avoid seeing the blood. Catelyn noted that she just so happened to turn it to see the reactions of the rest of the Tyrell as well. No stranger to blood indeed.

Loras rose to address Lady Brienne, "The gods have seen fit to acquit you, Lady Brienne," the rage in his voice barely masked, " you are free to go." Loras then turned foot and stormed towards the castle, Lords Rowan and Tarly quickly following him.

Catelyn rose to make to the Lady Brienne, when a messenger appeared at the stands. "Lord Tyrell?" he asked nervously. Margaery rose to confront him "Lord Tyrell is indisposed, but you may pass your message to me." she answered curtly.

The messenger gave a small frown, but turned to reveal a small, elderly lady " Lady Olenna of House Tyrell" he stated as an introduction.

Catelyn was startled by the sudden intrusion. So this was the Queen of Thorns. Why would she be here?

"Grandmother!" exclaimed Margaery, giving the lady a light hug as greeting.

"It is good to see you Margaery, and who is this Lady?" Olenna responded, looking questioningly at Catelyn.

"I am Lady Catelyn Stark, mother of His grace King Robb Stark." Catelyn responded curtly.

"A Stark? Here? It is shocking you don't melt, my Lady." responded Olenna candidly "but then you are, if memory serves, a Tully. I suppose fish don't melt."

Catelyn turned from surprised to angry. "Yes, well, I must go see to Lady Brienne. Good day to you all."

"Oh, Lady Stark?" Margaery called after her, "Shall you be staying for a while longer?"

Catelyn contemplated this for a moment. She had found her quest to Renly to be unsuccessful, to say the least. But, Lady Brienne needed to rest, at least for the day and the night, before they set off. Catelyn would hardly leave the Lady behind in this hive of vipers.

" I shall at least the night, my Lady Tyrell, if you would have me?" she responded

Margaery's face flashed something unrecognizable, but quickly returned to her calm, collected expression once more. " We shall of course, my Lady." she responded curtly.

Catelyn turned, making her way to the tent where Brienne had gone, her guard closing in around her from the entrance of the tent. As she left, she could swear she heard Lady Olenna chuckle.

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

This was a good one, I think. All new stuff. Margaery is next.


	4. Margaery I

**Margaery**

Margaery was no longer concerned with Lady Catelyn Stark. Her Lord Husband's death left no reason to care for diplomatic envoys, nor any reason to treat with the distant lands of the north. Instead, she planned to simply make her way back to Highgarden, where she would wait with Loras until the war was over. Peaceful though this may sound, this did not please her. No, it would not do to simply wait in her home, beautiful though it may be. It did not further her goals, nor did it sound terribly interesting.

As such, she made herself present to her grandmother, whom she loved dearly. Together, they quietly made their way through the low halls of Bitterbridge keep, towards Margaery's rooms.

"Oh dear child, I do hope you have not fretted yourself too much at Renly's death." Olenna Tyrell said in passing.

Margaery smiled, "Oh I shall manage, I imagine. It is a terrible shame, though."

"Indeed, Loras seems beside himself. But more importantly, it sets our plans back considerably." Olenna replied.

The pair had then reached the doors to Lady Margaery's rooms. " Well, I suppose it is what it is."

They entered the room which was large, with a large bed in the corner and a balcony and window taking up a side of the room. There was a small table in front of the balcony, and Tyrell and Baratheon banners adorning the walls.

"And what it is is inconvenient. Renly's death leaves a void of unwedded or betrothed kings left." Olenna said as soon as the door had been safely shut. " I suppose we might get you to marry Joffrey, but he is outnumbered and surrounded at the moment, not to mention betrothed to a bride whom he evidently loves." Olenna replied with a chortle.

" Are you certain of his love for the Stark girl, Lady Grandmother?" Margaery questioned while Olenna sat in a chair by a table, while Margaery took the seat opposite.

" As certain as anything is to be certain about the true feelings of that boy. They say he is quite the brute. Not to mention, we've already disavowed his right to rule." Olenna reasoned, " and I doubt that Tywin Lannister would be particularly happy to see us on the throne he so desperately clings to. Certainly not without a fight."

Margaery frowned " Then where does that leave us?"

"Kingless, it would seem." Olenna shut her eyes in contemplation, " unless Mace would wish to follow the Young Wolf's example and declare for himself."

" He would do such a thing?" Margaery asked, taken aback.

"Probably not, if only because he couldn't, the way things are. And even if he did, you would still miss your aim of queendom, unless you wish to marry Willas like a Targaryen." Olenna japed. She opened her eyes and faced Margaery directly, "What was Lady Stark doing here?"

" She was here to stand witness in the trial of the maid. She wanted to make sure the Lady wasn't hurt." Margaery responded quickly.

" Is she still here?"

" She is meant to be until the morrow. I imagine her escort and she will travel back to Riverrun to join her son."

Olenna looked out of the room's window, " Perhaps the Iron Throne is indeed out of reach, but that does not mean you can't be queen."

" You wish to marry me to Robb?" Margaery realized

" It will make you queen, at very least, and give the Reach a king." Olenna smiled " A hero king, at that. The people love a good hero, even if the wolf may have fleas. "

Margaery thought on it for a while, then responded "But Robb is betrothed is he not?"

"He is, to some lord's daughter. Frey, I believe. But it was a contract of necessity, and what are a small lord's armies to the might of the Reach?"

" My father has no designs on the north. He wants a Tyrell on the Iron Throne."

" Mace is a fool, child. He'll listen to whatever is best."

Margaery still looked hesitant, " Starks are known for their honor. Would they even accept to break Robb's betrothal?"

" True, I doubt the son of Ned Stark would do anything that even looked dishonorable, but I believe he may yet be courted." Olenna looked around the room "Have you nothing to write with? I believe I need to pull some rather delicate strings."

Margaery got up to gather some parchment and a quill for her grandmother. "And who will you be writing?"

"Oh don't trouble yourself with that, child" Olenna smiled, " I think it best you invite Lady Stark to supper with us tonight. It seems prudent for a wife to meet her mother-in-law before the wedding, even if the mother does not know it yet."

Olenna began with the ink and quill, her writing quick and neat from years of experience.

"My Ladies Tyrell, Lord Loras is here to see you." A messenger called from the door.

"Oh, send him in." responded Olenna, not looking up.

Margaery repeated the order louder so that it might be heard, and Loras stepped into the room. He was still wearing his armor, which it seems he'd barely taken off since the death. His mouth seemed permanently fixed into a frown, and his eyes still begat grieving. Oh poor brother, thought Margaery, if only you would smile again.

" My Ladies, we are to depart for Highgarden in two days." Loras said with striking formality. He really was beside himself.

" Oh sweet child, come here." called Olenna as she rose, motioning for Loras to hug her. Loras, somewhat begrudgingly, ablogied. "But, I'm afraid I don't believe it in our best interest to return to Highgarden just yet."

Loras looked furious as he released from the embrace, "Why? So that we can watch as what's left of our army goes to Stannis." He spit out the last word.

"No, my child. We are a land without any king. Perhaps it is time we found a new one."

"Days after he died, you just want to abandon him?" Loras screamed "Perhaps you want us to bend to the Lannister bastard? Or Stannis? Yes let's just go to the side of our enemies."

Olenna smiled, " Sweet child, we would never do such a thing. Do Tyrell's have no honor?" her smile unwavering, " We would never betray your lady sister like that."

Or you, thought Margaery. She had never really felt anything towards Renly, nor was she expected to. But she knew well that Loras had, on many occasions. Her poor brother.

" Do not fret, Child. You will never have to bend knee to Joffrey or Stannis. Now you must rest child, you are not thinking clearly. For now we shall stay here."

Loras looked indignant, but turned and left the room.

Olenna looked triumphantly at Margaery "Well, he may yet be appeased. Anyway, child, you must send word to Mace of our staying here at once, then see to Stark. And do try and look presentable for supper."

Margaery smiled and left Olenna to lounge in the room. After the door closed behind her, she realized how glad she was that someone had things figured out.

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

Couldn't quite get everything I wanted to say to be said. At first this was going to include the dinner, but I was getting bored of Bitterbridge. Not sure if it's Tyrion, Robb or Arya next, but I imagine if it's the later two some more violence will be on the way. I may put up a poll, not sure how to do that yet.

For Jean d'Arc, firs of all, thank you! Second, Jeyne appeared in Storm of Swords, if memory serves me. This is well before that particular event. I tihink Cat and Marg will be an interesting duo, but my reading of Catelyn was she had more in common with cersei than margaery, but maybe that's just me.


	5. Arya I

**Notes**: Arya will be following the show rather than the books for her scenes. Why? Because I like it better, that's why. Also, I can change things that seem like (in the show) should've happened.

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><p><strong>Arya<strong>

Arya found her way to the kitchens early in the morning, collecting the meal that had been laid out for Lord Tywin. It was mutton pie, and the smell of it made Arya's stomach ache. She walked the way to Lord Tywin's council room and found him sitting on his chair at the head of the table, talking to Ser Gregor Clegane

"Someone tried to poison me. I want them found and I want their head." said Tywin shortly after Arya entered.

Ser Clegane looked pensively, "It's not killing them, it's finding them. This brotherhood without banners has been harassing us all around these woods." Arya cut into the pie, preparing the food for Tywin.

"And here I thought you were known for your talent for violence, ser Gregor. Burn the villages, find this brotherhood, go." shouted Tywin as Arya carefully took a slice and placed it on a plate.

Ser Gregor left in a hurry, leaving the room to Arya and Tywin.

"Girl, is that mutton?"

"Yes, my lord." responded Arya timidly.

"Don't like mutton." he said decisively.

"I'll... get something else, the-"

"Leave it, are you hungry, girl?" Tywin cut her off

"N-" began Arya

"Of course you are, sit, eat." commanded Tywin.

Arya felt an overwhelming impulse to leave the room, but she was so hungry and afraid that she did as she was commanded.

" You're small, for your age. I suppose you've been underfed all your life." Tywin stated.

" I eat a lot, I just don't get big." Arya responded between bites of food.

" I see." Tywin rose and walked to the window, looking off into the distance, "This will be my last war, one way or another."

Arya stared at him, "Have you ever lost before?"

"Do you think I'd be in my position if I'd lost wars? No, girl. This one will be my legacy, though." He looked at Arya "Do you know what a legacy is, girl?"

She shook her head "It's how you are remembered after you're gone. Harrenhal was to be Harren the Black's legacy, do you know what happened to it?" He asked

"Dragons." remembered Arya

Tywin looked around for a moment "Yes, dragon's happened. Yes Aegon changed the rules. That's why every child born still knows his name"

Arya recalled " Aegon and his sisters."

Tywin stared at Arya quizzically, "It wasn't just Aegon on a dragon. There was Rhaenys and Visenya too"

"A student of history are you? Who taught you?" asked Tywin

"My father." Arya said quickly.

"Never met a well read stonemason before."

"Have you met many stone masons, my lord?" asked Arya defiantly

"M'lord"

Arya was thrown off. "I'm sorry?"

"Commoners say m'lord. If you're going to pose as a commoner, you may as well do it properly."

"My mother worked for the lady for many years, my lord. She taught me how to speak proper... properly! my lord" Arya feigned correction.

"Did she now? And your father who died for loyalty to these lords as well?"

Arya nodded quickly.

"You are quite the accomplished liar, Arya Stark. You even fooled me for a while."

Arya jumped out of her seat and ran for the door.

"Guards, stop her." Tywin called lazily.

After she was apprehended by two red cloaked warriors, she was brought by her arms back into the council room. "What should we do with this one?" asked one of the guards quickly.

"That one is Arya Stark, and she should be treated as such. Sit down, girl, there's no point in trying to run now." said Tywin matter of factly.

As soon as the guards let her go, Arya bolted for the door once again. Tywin sighed as she was again retrieved and sat down at the table. "I suppose it's fitting for me to have the Stark girl when Stark has my boy. No, sit." he said after she looked as if she were going to run again, "If you manage to leave the keep, we'll have to kill you. Neither of us wants that."

Arya was too shocked to speak, so could only shake her head when Tywin asked, "Do you know how I knew it was you?" he smiled, "You ran. That was a mistake. But now, I imagine you will not make that mistake again, or at least I should hope not. It would certainly do your late father no credit. Send us a new cupbearer." Tywin called after one of the retreating form of the guards.

"Now, Arya Stark, we must talk about your brother."

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

Short, I know, but good I think. There was only one real plot point here, so I think I got it covered.

Next chapter should be posted today, as well. It's a Cat chapter


	6. Catelyn III

**Catelyn**

Brienne had been alright, in the end. The maester attending her said she may walk with a limp for the day, but by the morrow it would mend, albeit a little stiffly. It was some time after listening to the maesters long deliberation as to the exact nature of the injury that Catelyn thought to sit down at a small chair in the tent, next to the chair which Brienne had been positioned on while being examined.

After some time, the maester left, satisfied with his patients condition. As soon as he had vacated the room, Brienne spoke, " My Lady, what do I do now?"

Catelyn considered this momentarily before responding, " I imagine you'd best flee this camp. Too many still suspect you of being responsible for the murder of Renly"

Brienne frowned, "My lady, when is it you plan on leaving?"

"On the morrow. We planned on riding to Riverrun."

Brienne looked up, with soldiers square, "I would join you, if you would have me."

Catelyn's eyes widened, "Why?"

"You protected me, after... what happened. You've never left me unguarded. You've saved me, but more than that you proved to be a lady of honor and who can serve with courage. I would be honored to serve you my Lady." Brienne finished, now kneeling.

Catelyn knew that it would be risky to take the claimed kingslayer with her in the home of the Tyrell's, but it would simply crush the girl if she were to refuse. "Then rise, Lady Brienne." She smiled, and made to speak when she was interrupted by the tent flap opening and an angry Loras storming in.

He turned to Brienne, his entire body trembling, his face somewhere between rage and despair "Did you kill him?" His words cutting the air.

Brienne, still kneeling, but now near paralyzed with shock, shook her head as much as she could manage. Loras' face grew more dejected, as he asked again, now trembling through his words " Was it Stannis?"

This time Brienne managed to speak "...yes." She herself now looked stricken with grief.

Loras looked as if he was going to cry, and fell to his knees. Now Catelyn spoke, as she rose to her feet " Your grief does you credit, ser Loras, and would that Renly still lived. But he has fallen, and now we must avenge his passing." Loras looked up at the woman, " We must remind Stannis that the gods and men curse a kinslayer."

Loras rose once more, shooting a teary eyed look at Catelyn " We shall kill Stannis?"

" And avenge his and my husband's deaths, yes. For now, Lord Loras, you shall need rest."

Loras looked bereaved, but nonetheless, turned to leave the tent. " You are a good woman, Lady Stark." He called out as he left the tent.

Thank the gods there was no one else but Brienne here, else that conversation may have been a promise. Brienne looked at Lady Stark in awe, " We shall kill Stannis?"

Seven hells. " We shall see. Mayhaps the Lannisters will do it for us."

It would certainly help their cause to kill a few red cloaks, even though she may have just doubled their enemies. "Lady Brienne, I would recommend staying with the rest of my escort tonight. I shall now be returning to the keep." Brienne nodded, and made for the tent flap after her. Once again, after leaving the tent, her guards closed in on either side of her as they made their way to the keep and to Catelyn's chambers.

Once they reached her door, she saw Margaery approaching. "Lady Margaery" she said in greeting, remembering to refrain from her late husband's surname.

"Lady Stark, my grandmother would invite you to supper with us tonight in my solar." Indeed? She had not been warmly received when she arrived here, perhaps the Tyrell's hoped to gain something. They were known for their scheming, afterall.

"I shall accept your gracious invitation, my Lady." Catelyn did not particularly fancy running herself into the Queen of Thorn's trap, but she reasoned she could stand to see what they were up to.

"Very well, my Lady. We shall send for you" Replied Margaery as she turned to go.

I wonder if Loras spoke with her. Catelyn figured she had made an impression, but Loras hardly seemed in a state to arrange for a diplomatic dinner so soon.

Catelyn settled herself down to make a few letters. She decided she should notify her brother of her well being, but decided not to divulge her location or plans for fear of the raven being shot down. She wrote slowly, as she had little to pass the time with, and before long a servant came to bring her to supper.

Lady Margaery's rooms were on the far side of the keep, but the size of the castle kept the distance between the rooms short. When she arrived, Lady Olenna and Lady Margaery were already sitting on the window side of the table, which was already set for supper. Catelyn noted that there only three places set, "Shall Lord Loras be joining us tonight?"

"I'm afraid not, he is grieving for his friend, but he sends his regards." Margery replied.

His friend, not his king, Catelyn noticed. These Tyrells play the game well.

" A shame, but I am sorry for his and both of your loses. Renly was a good man." Catelyn stated matter of factly.

" A good man, but dead nonetheless." Olenna responded. " It happens to all men, in time."

" How... astute of you, Lady Tyrell." responded Catelyn.

" I see no reason to deny the ways of life, child. It may be best if you do as well." That unnerved Lady Catelyn. Margaery at did her the service of looking somewhat embarrassed by her grandmothers sharp tongue. Catelyn struggled to find a retort, when luckily conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the pigeon pie. The three ate for a while in silence before Margaery decided to break it.

" So have you received word of how your son's war goes?" she asked offhandedly.

" Truthfully I could not tell you beyond what you likely already know." responded Catelyn, which was likely not entirely true, but no reason to divulge plans to potential enemies

" I heard he rode into the Westerlands, give Tywin Lannister some of what the riverlands got" smirked Olenna, " Likely for the best. The lion could stand to have his pride shrunk some."

" I don't know about that, grandmother. Perhaps Lord Tywin could finally see things from his son's perspective." giggled Margaery, "Is there something wrong, Lady Stark?" she asked after seeing the woman's dismayed face.

" I am just surprised that you would mock potential allies so brazenly, Lady Margaery."

Lady Olenna chortled, responding " The Lannisters would sooner have our heads than our hearts, now that we've disavowed Joffrey's parentage. A shame, given that leaves us only with Stannis for a king."

_Loras won't like that option._ Perhaps she could use this to her advantage. " I won't bend my knee to that kinslayer, nor will the I the Lannisters." Margaery declared, using the opportunity to take another bite of food.

Olenna made her play, " Perhaps you would the young wolf?"

Catelyn could barely contain her surprise. So that was the reason for the supper invitation. But at what cost? Mace Tyrell never seemed to desire anything less than a Tyrell on the Iron Throne. Swearing fealty to the North will hardly allow for that, unless they mean to gain it's crown somehow. Then the pieces all came together, and Catelyn saw what the Queen of Thorns was playing at.

"You mean to wed Margaery to Robb?" Catelyn blurted out, cursing herself for being so foolish just afterwards.

" My sweet child, that would be a wonderful thing. But, I fear that Robb is betrothed, is he not?" Catelyn was amazed at Olenna's parry.

"Oh yes," quickly agreed Margaery, " I have long admired him from afar. He is a storied king in his own right,and so young. But a girl can dream." she finished with a giggle.

Imprudent to admire a stranger when wedded to a king, thought Catelyn, but made nothing of it. It's all a part of their game. Regardless, it was a tempting offer. The Reach would provide enough men to win the war, in this camp alone. And Mace Tyrell was a man easily pleased, but Robb would never break his word. Damned Stark honor.

The conversation ws interrupted by a knock at the door, and Olenna's bid of entrance.

"News from the riverlands, lady Tyrell" declared the servant before handing the sealed note and exiting the room as quickly as he came.

"What word from my homeland?" asked Catelyn pointedly as Olenna opened the message and began reading.

"It would seem Lord Tywin has left Harrenhal." replied Olenna.

Others take him.

"That is... unfortunate news" responded Margaery, "Do we know where he rides?"

"No, we do not. But we know at least one person he rides with."

"Who?" asked Catelyn quickly

"Why, your daughter, Arya Stark."

_Arya is with Tywin? _This does not bode well.

Margaery looked defiant "Well we must retrieve her! No girl should have to be cooped up with an enemy army, especially not Lord Tywin."

A good performance, thought Catelyn. Robb rides in the Westerlands. Edmure was ordered to hold Riverrun. Harrenhal is too far for either force to intercept him, and we don't have the soldiers to spare in a rescue. Besides, a battle with Tywin now damns my daughter to death.

" Would it that we could, but the armies are now too far apart." replied Catelyn.

" It does bring up an interesting problem though." Catelyn was getting tired of that sly smile by now.

" And that is?" asked Catelyn, the food now mostly finished.

" Well, it would seem that there are at least two enemy armies between here and Riverrun, and we as your hosts could not bare to let you leave in the middle of so much violence. Better that you stay in the protection of our host."

That much was true at least. The travel between here and Riverrun was now more perilous than ever. " I would accept your gracious offer, Lady Tyrell, except that my companion Lady Brienne may be no safer here than on the field."

"You have my word as a Tyrell that no harm will come to Lady Brienne in this camp. Now then, I believe it would be best if we finished our business here." Olenna's giving commands was unwelcome, but Catelyn Stark was trapped. Travel without an army was impossible now that Tywin was on the move.

"Very well, then. I shall leave you." It would be best if Catelyn stayed with the Tyrells while she could, she thought. She loathed the Idea of Arya being in the hands of Tywin Lannister, but no army could safely retrieve her now. It would have to be a smaller effort, one which could be undetected. Catelyn knew at once what she must do, and went to find Lady Brienne.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

Noticing that these are pretty short, but honestly, I think it's alright. This was a hard chapter to write, a lot happens in a short amount of time. Olenna is acting pretty well, and Margaery is in full charade now. The reason for the Loras scene was to establish a sort of connection between Stark and Tyrell beyond the scheming of Margaery. Besides, I think that Catelyn's motherly instinct was a perfect match for Loras' heartbreak. Dunno what's next, but I know it'll happen after today.


	7. Brienne I

**Brienne**

Brienne was mounted on spirited palfrey, well on her way to the fortress of Harrenhal. She had been riding for eight days now, and was just on the south side of the lake from the god's eye. It would be another two days before she reached the fortress itself, and she could find out where Tywin was heading. She had figured that she could travel at last twice as quickly as a host, but if she could catch up with Tywin Lannister was determinant on where he was going.

She dismounted, and opened her saddlebag to retrieve a quick meal. She had been honored to be given this task from the Lady Catelyn. The women had no shortage of honor, and had fought for her for as long as she had been capable. Being tasked with the rescue of her daughter was a privilege, so she decided. The only issue was, she didn't know if she could.

Brienne was a fine warrior, she had proven as much, but stealth and infiltration? She didn't have any experience in this. But she would do everything she could to save Lady Stark's daughter from Tywin Lannister. She only hoped it would work.

She sat down on a log, and her horse moved to eat some of the grass on the side of the road. At least the weather was alright, she thought as she looked up at the blue, cloudless sky. As she looked, she noticed the sky being invaded by black clouds. No, not clouds. Smoke, from the east. That can't be good. _No, but it may be where the host has gone._

Brienne rose to get to her horse, when she noticed two Red Cloaked figure approaching her from the direction of the smoke. _Lannisters. That's a good sign._

" 'allo milord" asked one of the two, clearly drunk, " where 's you 'eaded to?"

" Wait Pot, 'e ain't got the right colors on." the other, equally intoxicated one said, noticing Brienne's blue cuirasse.

" I am looking for the host of Tywin Lannister, do you know where he went?" Brienne asked impatiently.

" 's a bloody girl!" noticed the first.

" That's a girl?" the other one pondered the fact, "I say we fuck 'er"

Brienne didn't feel particularly threatened as she moved to her mount.

" Wait, ain't we supposed to kill anyone we see?" said the first, drawing his sword.

" Yeah, 'reckon we should fuck this 'unt then kill 'er." replied the other, also drawing his sword.

Brienne drew her longsword from the horse-sheath. " I asked you a question, where is Tywin Lannister?"

The two were unresponsive as the first drunkenly charged Brienne. She parried the blow, using the momentum from the drunken fool's blow to send him spiraling to the dirt. The second one charged with a scream, his blade clashing down on the side of Brienne's. She pivoted her blade around the contact, her pommel hitting the man's helmet off, sending him to the ground as well. The first attacker had struggled back to his feet, and he sent another blow crashing into Brienne, who simply dodged the first two, then attacked on her own, sending a stab into the man's abdomen, throwing his limping form back against a tree. The second one was trying to rise before Brienne sent a blow into the man's leg, causing him to scream in agony. He laid on his back as Brienne put the point of her sword to his neck.

"Where is your Lord Tywin Lannister." The man's eyes showed his mortal fear, and he stammered out his response.

"We wasn't with the Lord Tywin, milo- milady. We was with the Mounta..."

"Where is Tywin Lannister?" Brienne interrupted

"'E's gone to King's Landing to figh' Stannis! The Imp's being sieged an' he wans to save 'im."

King's Landing? Tywin would bring a little girl to the largest battle since Robert's Rebellion? And if his host is traveling so far east, where was the smoke coming from?

"Where did the smoke come from?" Brienne demanded

"We was burning the villages so...argh!" Brienne had heard enough. She cleaned her sword on the dead man's clothes and mounted her horse, turning to ride east. She might be able to catch up with him, if she rode fast enough.

_Stannis will be there too._

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

Hey, it's another short one, but Brienne needed to start heading towards King's Landing. For anyone wondering, Littlefinger will arrive /very/ soon. I'm skipping all of Tyrion's stuff for now, mostly because I would be rewriting all of Marti's stuff which already works fine given what's happening. Next is Margaery, methinks. Updates will slow down during the week, and may be a little shorter until the end of next week.


	8. Margaery II

**Margaery**

Bitterbridge was getting boring. It wasn't that she was restricted anymore than normal, she was indeed as occupied as ever. But it wasn't terribly interesting in the first place. It didn't help that there was no place to occupy her in this keep, just the host of men, grumbling about a lack of things to occupy themselves with, her grandmother, brother, and of course, Lady Stark.

She could tell the Stark woman didn't trust her at first, which wouldn't bother her, save her grandmother's ambitions. It did help that they have been having meals together, she thought Lady Catelyn may be warming up to her, though it was hard to tell. _The women was as icy as the North she claimed to rule. _Margaery sat in her solar, sewing a rose into a dress.

"Margaery?" she turned to the sound of her brothers voice.

"Loras, come in." Loras had seemed more dissatisfied with the lack of action at Bitterbridge than she was. He had shown himself ready to fight Stannis, as well as the Lannisters, strangely. Margaery suspected that Catelyn and he had been becoming close, which was fortunate. If an alliance was to work, such a friendship would only strengthen it.

"May I sit?" He asked curtly, which Margaery acquiesced to.

"Are you supping with Lady Catelyn tonight?"

"I imagine so, why?"

"I would like to join, if you would have me."

Loras' moping had kept him eating with his men, for the most part. The woman's meals had been kept a small affair as a result.

"Of course, dear brother. May I ask why?"

Loras frowned, " There has been news from the North. Winterfell has been taken by the Greyjoys. And there have been rumors of something happening at the Twins."

Bran and Rickon were still in Winterfell, weren't they? Lady Stark would want to rush North immediately. he hoped whatever grandmother was planning would happen soon."That's terrible, has Lady Stark been informed?"

" I told her as soon as I had heard." So the Stark woman commanded some respect from Loras. Margaery was slightly offended that Loras told Catelyn before he had told her. "She plans on riding to her son on the morrow."

Of course she was, "The King in the North still rides in the Westerlands. It would be far too dangerous to travel through Lannister territory."

"King Robb has left the West. He aims to pursue the opening at Harrenhal." he paused, "and to let the Frey host return to the Freylands."

"Why would the Freys return home?" _had Robb broken the betrothal?_

"It is what happened at the Twins. They say they have been destroyed."

"Destroyed? By who?"

"Tywin Lannister. A galley sailed under the fortress' bridge and exploded, destroying the whole of the fortress. The Late Lord and much of his family died in the blast."

"Why would he do such a thing?"

"To keep Robb from retaking Winterfell is the best guess. With Bran and Rickon captured, Robb has no heirs who aren't in captivity. No doubt Tywin payed the Greyjoys some ridiculous sum to spirit them to Casterly Rock." Loras' expression turned towards rage.

"Do not fret, dear brother, I'm sure King Robb will rescue them." Margaery smiled sympathetically.

"Or perhaps we will" said Loras half thinking, as he turned to leave the room.

_ I suppose I'll send for him when supper is ready._

Margaery decided to use the opportunity to go visit her grandmother, who's rooms neighbored hers. As she arrived she found Olenna Tyrell writing a letter

"Grandmother." she said curtly

"Ah, it's about time you showed up." Olenna greeted, "sit down."

Margaery did as she was bade. "We have much to discuss. I imagine Loras has told you the news."

"Yes, it is a great tragedy." Margaery responded.

"Terrible, yes, and a valuable opportunity, as I imagine you have deduced." Olenna finished her letter and began closing it. "You must be betrothed to Robb Stark. Given that Lady Catelyn seems determined to leave tomorrow, you must be betrothed today. You do know what happened at the Twins?"

Margaery nodded and responded, "Yes, the explosion."

"Which killed Robb's betrothed and destroyed the passage to the North, yes. Now that Robb is free to marry, he must marry you, and we must convince Lady Stark of this."

"How will we do that?" Margaery knew the Stark woman to be a grim sort. She couldn't imagine how she would react now that she was worried about all of her children.

"Don't worry about that, child. All you need do is play your part." Olenna smiled, "Now run along. We'll see each other at supper."

Margaery returned to her room again, and before long the servants had arranged the food. Olenna entered soon after and found her seat, commenting on the fourth place set. "Loras is joining us."

Olenna looked unperturbed by this news. Before long Lady Stark and Loras entered the room.

"Lord Loras, I did not expect you." Catelyn said before sitting down.

"You have been the guest of my host. It is only proper to see you off." he answered quickly.

"It is good to see you Lady Stark. I am so sorry about what happened at Winterfell." said Margaery in greeting.

Catelyn stiffened, "Yes, they have taken my children again. We should have never let Theon live as our ward."

"We will avenge you, my Lady." responded Loras, determined.

"Those are kind words, Loras." _and words are wind. But perhaps not this time._

"Where will you ride on the morrow, child?" asked Olenna

"Riverrun, to my brother and my son."

"What of your sons?" asked Margaery

"They will live under the rule of Theon, for now. Until Robb can mount his head on a pike in front of the walls of his own childhood home." Catelyn ended with a huff._ Understandable, to save her children._

"I hope we can help you." said Margaery, kindly.

"We can, child." said Olenna

"What do you mean grandmother?"

"We can ally with them, of course."

Catelyn looked startled, and made to speak but Olenna slyly interrupted her.

"We have a daughter, you have a son. It'll make Mace happy, he wants nothing more than to have a royal Tyrell, and we will join you in your war." Margaery blushed at her grandmothers forwardness.

Catelyn looked taken aback, "You would have my son marry Margaery?"

"Yes, I would. And have the Tyrells fight the Lannisters and Stannis for their treachery."

Loras smiled at that, and Catelyn looked contemplative, "I will not betrothe my son without his leave. Not again."

Olenna looked dubiously at Catelyn as she continued, "Margaery may accompany me to Riverrun to meet with Robb himself, but I will not let my son be betrothed to a stranger again."

Olenna thought for a moment, "Very well. She will accompany you."

Loras interjected, "We should send our host to accompany you."  
>Catelyn responded quickly, "We don't need another army in Riverrun. Supplies are low enough, and I doubt Robb will appreciate another host he doesn't control in the Riverlands."<p>

"If Margaery is to go with you,she will require an escort, beyond hat you brought with you. Perhaps just part of the host, say a quarter, would be enough?" Olenna soothed.

"Very well. We shall depart first thing in the morrow. Will you be ready, Lady Margaery?"

"Of course." she responded

Olenna smirked. _Her plan had worked. _"It is resolved then. If the betrothal does come to pass, I shall depart for Riverrun as soon as it will be safe with another part of the host."

Catelyn looked suspicious, "Whatever for?"

"Why, to plan the wedding, of course." Olenna smiled.

A knocking came on the door. "There is someone to see you, my lords."

"Let them in." commanded Loras, turning to the door. As soon as the figure entered the room, Catelyn Stark gasped.

" Petyr!"

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

Well, it'll have to do. I feel like Margaery wasn't quite right, but I think I managed to get her general emotions through. Also DUN DUN DUN! Littlefinger's here. We're maybe two or three chapters away from the battle of Blackwater now. Thinking that'll be pretty good.


	9. Arya II

**Arya**

The carriage had been going for a while now. The door wasn't locked, but there was a knight riding as close as possible to it. Arya had heard that this was originally meant to be for Tywin Lannister, but in his gruff way he refused it. The cold remains of her meal remained sitting on the well furnished bench next to her.

Tywin Lannister had done one good thing for Arya: improve the food she ate. She wasn't searching for scraps anymore, that was for sure. Now she was being fed like the little lady she was. They had been on the road for a few days now, headed to King's Landing, and on the road she had been confined to a blasted cart before she was confined to a tent neighboring Tywin's.

Tywin's war room meetings had become off limits for Arya, but she managed to get into the outside world with heavy escort during the day. Tywin had been taking his meals when his council wasn't meeting with Arya, though she didn't know why. She was a prisoner now, as her guard Ser Greg Foote so graciously reminded her. She wasn't sure what was worse, that she was captured again, or that she couldn't even practice fighting anymore. She wondered where her Needle was as she noticed the carriage stopping.

The carriage door opened, and she was greeted by the familiar, unpleasant sound of her captor's voice " Get on out, Lady Stark." Ser Greg's name had since been added to her list.

Arya stepped out of the carriage, seeing the confluence of red clad soldiers setting up tents and sleeping cots for the night in a well rehearsed routine, the squires helping knights in this task. Arya felt a small force on the small of her back which she knew to be Ser Greg nudging her towards the central, already set up tent of Lord Tywin Lannister.

She made her way to the tent and entered, seeing a small meal set up for the two of them on the war council table, as she had become accustomed to on the brief journey to King's Landing.

"Good evening, Lady Stark" said Tywin, humorlessly.

"Good evening, Lord Lannister" she responded mirthlessly. This had become their tradition.

The meal was a small set up of pork pie, which made for a small but sturdy meal on the road. It had been hours since her last meal, and she eagerly dug into the pie. After some time, she looked up to see Tywin had not touched his pie, instead lost in thought.

" My Lord?" she ventured after a long time.

His trance ended, "I imagine you've been bored, haven't you girl?" he looked at her, "not much to do in this tent."

" No, Lord Tywin. I've not been doing anything especially."

"Hm. Not much I can give you in the way of dolls and needles for sewing. An army normally has more use of swords and shields."Tywin responded

"I prefer swords anyway." Tywin raised an eyebrow, "My brother gave me a sword before we went to King's Landing. My father got me a master to teach me to use it."

Tywin looked amused, "Indeed? And what does a little girl need a sword for?"

"Killing people." Arya answered pointedly.

" I imagine I may be one of those people." Tywin paused, then continued, " Tell me, girl, what do you remember of King's Landing?"

She thought for a moment, "There was the Red Keep where father would go, and the High Sept in the middle. And then there was the building where we stayed." she frowned at the thought of her running from the house her father stayed. "I hated it. I hated all the people, I hated having to do all the stupid things Sansa liked, I hated stupid Jo-" she cut herself off before she finished the thought.

Tywin almost smiled, "Well then, I suppose you won't enjoy that we are going to save it."

" Save it from what?"

" Stannis Baratheon. He was the brother of King Robert."

Arya hadn't liked the fat king, but he could have been worse. Like Joffrey.

" What will happen?"

" Well, girl, you will stay in camp with a guard while the battle happens. We'll send for you to join us in the Red Keep when the battle is over, with your sister."

" And if you lose?"

The question hung in the air for longer than Arya had expected.

" Pray we don't." Tywin answered eventually.

Arya understood that probably it wasn't a good idea to continue down this line of questioning.

" Do you know why it's called King's Landing?" asked Tywin after a while.

" It's where Aegon Targaryen landed with his dragons."

" Correct." affirmed Tywin, " And his sisters as well, of course" he added.

_And where my sister is now. _" Did you have sisters Lord Tywin?" she asked to keep conversation moving.

" Yes, a younger one. Genna, is her name." he replied half thinking, "She's as fat as she is demanding. She is my least favorite sibling, yet, as the gods may have it, one of the few still left alive."

Arya stopped eating and looked up, "Your brothers and sisters died?" she blurted out.

Tywin looked at her, frowning, "No, just two brothers." he said, softer than normal.

"Who were they?" Arya asked, bewildered.

"Tygett was the older one. He was a great warrior. He squired for me during the war of Ninepenny kings, and later became a knight in his own right. My son always reminded me of him."

"How did he die?" Arya asked, engrossed.

"Great pox. His son Tyrek disappeared in King's Landing not so long ago." He answered, "He is nothing like his father." Tywin answered, still strangely distant.

_Everyone seems to be dying. _Though she wouldn't have admitted it, Arya missed her siblings. "My younger brother, Kevan, always liked him. He liked Gerion as well."

"Gerion?"

"He was my youngest brother. My children loved him. He would laugh and jape about politics and the court."

"He sounds nice"

Tywin looked into the distance, "He was a fool, but a kind fool. He would help Jamie with his reading and would tell jokes until Cersei smiled." He remembered something, "He would encourage Tyrion too. Made him remember all of the wonders of the world, gave him books of history to read, for all the good it did him."

Arya didn't understand, "What do you mean?"

" After Tygett died, he decided to go find something to be proud of. He went looking for Brightroar, the Lannister lost valyrian steel blade."

" And he never came back."

Tywin looked back at her, "No. My men tracked him to Volantis, but that's where the trail went cold. He probably died in the Smoking Sea. All that's left of him now is his bastard daughter."

"Who is she?"

"Joy Hill. She's a little older than you."

"Why did he leave her?" Arya had finished her meal now.

"The same reason Harren built his castle."

"Legacy." She remembered

"Yes, Gerion wanted to restore the Lannister legacy. He failed, and in doing so left behind his daughter."

Arya imagined a lonely girl waiting for her father who would never return home. "That sounds terrible."

" It was, but Gerion was too much a fool to realize the folly, now Joy pays the price. A wise man would not have forgotten his children."

" Like you never forget yours?" Arya asked jeeringly. Tywin glowered, which terrified her.

" Yes," after a pause, "Like I never forget mine."

Arya wondered what Gerion Lannister would have been like if he was born before Tywin. Tywin rose to his feet and moved towards the tent flap.

" I must attend a war council. Enjoy the rest of your meal." He said as he left, and just before leaving the tent flap, "I'll have a practice sword sent to you."

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

This was gonna be before the last one, but I forgot I promised Margaery. I think it's a good one, even if it doesn't contribute much to the plot. I really enjoy Tywin and Arya's conversations. Hopefully going to post again tomorrow, but no promises there, I'm afraid.


	10. Catelyn IV

**Catelyn**

"Catelyn?" Petyr was astounded, "Why are you here?"

"I believe," interrupted Olenna, "That it is traditional to greet the Lord of the manor before all others."

"Excuse me, my Lady. Lord Loras Tyrell, I am Petyr Baelish, master of coin for His Grace, Joffrey Baratheon."

Catelyn's eyes burned with hate, "You betrayed my husband, you started this war, you were behind all of this!"

"Lady Stark, please," pleaded Margaery, "you are distressed by the loss of your sons."

"She is right to be distressed, sister," countered Loras, "Why are you here, Littlefinger?"

Petyr's face flashed indecisive a moment before he decided, " I am here to represent the crown's monetary interests. As master of coin, I have such responsibilities, and with the war draining much of the kingdom's resources, King Joffrey requires food to feed his people, and to serve at the upcoming wedding."

Catelyn's eyes narrowed, but Loras spoke before she could, "And why would the Lannisters send someone of your station to deal with the us in such a trivial matter."

"Food is hardly a trivial matter, Lod Tyrell. Though I admit, I was somewhat... insulted by the task."

"Don't trust him, Lord Tyrell. He is a snake."

Petyr looked sorry, "Catelyn, I am deeply sorry I couldn't save your husband."

"So sorry you fled King's Landing with my daughters as soon as you could, spiriting them back to Winterfell?" she spat, "No, you weren't sorry. You don't have the ability."

"That's quite enough!" Olenna commanded, " Lord Baelish, you may discuss your terms with myself and Loras, after the supper is over."

"Grandmother, is it wise to deal with the enemies of those we would see be our allies?"

"No, but I hardly see reason to starve the people of King's Landing for the mistakes of the fools who rule them. Now, Margaery, I think it would be best if you escorted Lady Stark to her room."

Margaery rose to her feet and took Catelyn by her arm. Catelyn's thoughts were a blur. _Why would he be here? What do the Lannisters need? They surely want Highgarden's support, but how would they get it?_ Then it hit her. _The same way we would have it._

They were at Catelyn's rooms when she turned to Margaery and spoke. " Margaery we must talk about Petyr."

Margaery turned to look her directly with a sad face, "I know that you are in a rage because of him, but you have just heard the tragic news of your sons. You are distressed."

"No, Margaery, it has nothing to do with me." Catelyn swallowed, " He is going to try to marry you to Joffrey."

Margaery looked confused, or at least tried to, "Joffrey is a child, and a sworn enemy of my family. Besides, he is betrothed to your daughter, and, from all accounts, evil and disliked."

"Which is why you must refuse his offer. He needs your brother's army to save King's Landing, that is the only reason he would make such an offer."

"Lady Stark, you and I are riding north, with a host, tomorrow so I might meet your son for betrothal. I would not worry about Joffrey breaking that plan."

Catelyn sighed, "I suppose you're right. I shall retire, for the night."

She lied about the final point, but she wanted to be alone for a while. She sat on her bed, wondering on the coming events and what they would mean for her and her family, when a knock came on the door. "Catelyn?" came Petyr's voice.

She rose, and opened her door herself, "Petyr Baelish, Master of Coin, Lord Littlefinger." her sarcasm forced through her words.

"Catelyn, I swear I did everything."

"Words are wind, Petyr."

Petyr entered the room to some resistance from Catelyn.

"I couldn't save him, but perhaps I can save Sansa." Petyr stated matter-of-factly

"How do you plan on doing that?"

"I release her from the betrothal and spirit her away to white harbour."

"You mean you would have Joffrey marry Margaery in her stead." Catelyn countered angrily

Petyr looked reproachful, "Yes, that is part of the plan, but..."

"But you would have the two most powerful houses in Westeros aligned against my family and play me the fool for it. No," she interrupted him before he could defend himself, "I know your game, Littlefinger. Loras denied your proposal so you think to send me to try to convince him, but it will not happen. You should leave here now, before I have your head on a pike."

"Catelyn, I admit I.." Catelyn was backing him towards the door.

"I am tired of your admissions. Run on back to King's Landing, now. For your sake, I hope that Stannis will mount your head somewhere with a good view."

Petyr left the room, and Catelyn resolved to find Loras. She was surprised when she ran into him nearly immediately.

"Lady Stark, I have to tell you something." he said quickly

"What is it Loras?"

"Petyr wants us to break Margaery's betrothal to Robb. He would have her marry Joffrey instead."

Catelyn's suspicions were correct, "Did you refuse?"

"Of course my Lady, I would never wed my sister to a monster, let alone a Lannister." Loras replied, "My grandmother courted the idea, but I think she dismissed it when I refused to allow such a thing."

Catelyn looked at Loras. His eyes were tired, his clothes were ragged, he looked exhausted. She couldn't think how to thank him for all he had done. Catelyn brought him into a motherly embrace, which he returned, "Loras, you should rest. You have done beautifully. Thank you." she said soothingly.

Loras smiled a wan smile, and turned to go to sleep. Catelyn returned to her room, and looked out the window at the unmoved campfires of the vast host. She went to bed, and let them ease her into a deep slumber.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

I like this one. A lot happens, a few loose ends are tied, and most of all Loras and Catelyn's relationship is expanded. I didn't really think I could ever write a scene of motherly tenderness from the perspective of the mother well, because frankly,I could not be less qualified for it, but it's the best I could do. As I write this, Tyrion's chapter in the battle of the blackwater is almost done, so if that's not next, it'll be something leading into it directly


	11. Tyrion II

**Notes: READ THIS**

This chapter is going to start in the middle of the battle of the blackwater. At this point the siege has been going on for a while. Tyrion has been injured after leading his sortie. I tried to get around this, but I frankly didn't know how. So here it is. Also to respond to why Loras would get any say in the last chapter, Loras is Mace Tyrell's favorite son. In fact in the canon, it was entirely Loras' decision to marry Margaery and Joffrey, which is why I included a reason for Loras not to accept that proposal. So that's why.

* * *

><p><strong>Tyrion<strong>

He came to inside kings landing. Pod was standing over him, as were his two white cloak guards.

"What happened?"

"Still happening, milord, begging your pardon. We're losing the battle." responded Pod

Ah. Yes. He remembered the splintering bridge and being injured.

"Then why is it I am still alive."

"Losing, milord, not lost."

"Ah. Well that's good then."

Tyrion made to stand, and was greeted with pain. He percervered, however, and rose to his feet.

"Where are we?"

"Red Keep, my Lord, the throne room. They're about to arrive, you best take this," said Podrick.

"How many men do we have left?"

"Just what's left of the Kingsguard. They's being slowed by fighting on the other side of the river my lord, we don't know who's fighting who. But they're still getting in."

"Where is the king?"

"In Maegor's, with the queen milord."

"The coward has doomed any hope we had. We need to evacuate the keep before those bastards are on us." Tyrion looked at the main gate of the keep, which was closed.

"But, milord, the city's in a riot. We couldn't move through it if we wanted to." Podd responded, nervously.

"No, we couldn't." _What the hell do I do now?_ The city isn't safe, we're surrounded, my sister is cooped up in a castle. The only way out is blocked. _Not the only way._

Varys had mentioned an escape passage in the tower of the hand.

"Ser Balon, I need you to lead the defence of the keep. I need to get the Queen out of Maegor's, get everyone to the office of the tower of the hand. It's the only chance." commanded Tyrion.

"My Lord, what will you do there?" Balon asked, confused.

"Escape, Ser Balon." _I hope. _" I will send a signal, as soon as you receive it, surrender."

Tyrion wasn't thrilled about giving up his first post of command, but the king needed to survive, at all costs. _And I must save Shae._

He ran to the gate of Maegor's, and found the drawbridge raised. He looked for a sentry, and failing to see one, called out, "Guards, lower the bridge, we need to escape!"

"Escape? How? We're surrounded in case you hadn't noticed. Or are your wits as short as yourself?" came the voice of Lancel.

"Yes, yes, very funny. Now lower the damn bridge so we can get out of here." Tyrion had no time for insults.

"We'll all die!"

"You'll die anyway, now that the bloody king is with you. Lower the bridge."

There was a murmur after Tyrion finished, and the creek of the drawbridge came as it lowered, revealing Lancel and three Kingsguard in front of the keep. "Now then, where were we? Ah yes. Get the women and children out of the tower, bring them to the tower of the hand."

"What? we'll all die in there!"

"Just do it, damn you."

Lancel shook his head, "I won't be known as the man who led all the women of King's Landing to their deaths."

"Fine, just stay out of my way." Tyrion stormed into the tower and ran to the room where Cersei, the other women, and the king sat. The room was overflowing with frightened women, all Ladies in their own right.

"My Ladies, it is time for us to escape the keep." Tyrion announced loud enough to drown out the quiet whispers of the ladies.

Cersei rose to her feet, Joffrey standing next to her, "And where do you suppose we go, dear brother?"

"To the tower of the hand, and then out of King's Landing."

" You are mad, Tyrion, and your madness will kill the King."

"Or save him, Cersei. There's a passage out of the city in the tower of the hand, we can escape there."

Cersei thought for a moment, then looking torn, "If we can save the King, we must."

"Yes, now, Ladies, quickly, to the tower."

Tyrion ordered half of the guards to help escort the many ladies of King's Landing towards the Tower of the Hand, and let Cersei take the lead, next to Joffrey. Tyrion was following shortly behind, and was halfway up the stairs to the tower when he noticed Lady Sansa Stark next to him.

"Where are we going, my Lord?" she asked as they climbed ever faster.

He wasn't entirely certain. He knew the tunnels led north, away from the battle, but where to go from here was anyone's guess. He could hardly run an army of Noble Ladies to Casterly Rock unescorted. Then he remembered Tommen was in a castle nearby. "We will go to Rosby, where Tommen is with a guard. Hopefully, we can escape to the Westerlands before Stannis catches us. The rest of these ladies will go back to wherever it is they come from."

Tyrion was finally in the bedroom of the hand, where his sister was looking very distressed. "Where is this passage, lord brother?" she demanded.

Tyrion found where the map said it would be, and managed to open the door, revealing a long passage into the catacombs. He signaled a kingsguard to give him a piece of wood from a leg of furniture, which he held to the fireplace in the room, and began down the long, dark staircase down.

Tyrion's squire had caught up in the tower, and now the long procession of ladies was lead by Joffrey, Tyrion, Cersei, Sansa and Podd. The passage was long and dark, and before long the stairs became a path. Tyrion lead the ladies north to the terminus of the path, a cliffside portcullis on the north side of the city.

Tyrion opened the door and found himself on the rainswept precipice, overlooking the darkness of the bay. "You, go to Ser Balon in the keep, tell him I order a surrender." he said to one of Joffrey's flanking Kingsguard.

Tyrion found the path with his feet, and managed to make the way to a grassy landing which looked as if it would combine into the path to the North. He held out a hand for Cersei, which she took as she edged along the path.

Joffrey's guards went next, taking the boy king onto the grassy patch shortly after them. Tyrion went to help Sansa across, and Joffrey and Cersei began to run away from the city. Soon Tyrion, Sansa and Podd were across, and they began to follow the path north when a voice called from behind them, "My Lord, what do we do?" asked a lady from the growing crowd of those who had already crossed.

Tyrion looked at all of the noble ladies, " My Ladies, we can no longer call King's Landing safe. You all have homes. Distant lands and titles that belong to your family. I would suggest you go to them, and never return to this hell of a city. I will leave you all the guards who accompanied us, they will take you as far as Rosby. From there, you must find your own way. My family will not be accompanying you, for your safety as much as ours."

He turned to Sansa, "Lady Stark, you must come with us. Stannis will not spare Joffrey's betrothed."

Podd, Sansa and Tyrion then ran after Joffrey and Cersei. They met at a stable, where Joffrey and Cersei were mounting on two of the horses. Tyrion noticed the Stable boy lying bloody on the ground. Sansa gasped at the blood, but gulped it down. The party mounted, and galloped North.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

This sucks. I've rewritten it all week and cannot get the ideas here in a somewhat readable form. So, it is what it is.

To Guest: Hail, lord of anonymity! Loras is Mace's favorite son. In the canon it's heavily implied that he was responsible for Joffrey's betrothal to Margaery in the first place. Also, Loras would be the highest ranking Lord present at Bitterbridge, meaning any deal involving his family made would be volatile if he wasn't there to approve.

To Aiur: I honestly spent 5 minutes trying to pronounce your name before deciding on "Ay - or". As for Littlefinger's sudden backing out, you have to put yourself in his shoes. He's got no dog in this game outside of wanting Sansa to be removed from Joffrey's control, and he was relying on Loras' rage to let him get that to happen. Seeing Catelyn in Bitterbridge with an alliance in the works with the Tyrell's meant he knew that the support King's Landing needed would be delayed at best, so the mission was made pointless. Don't think Littlefinger has been defeated, he just changed with the times. As this chapter may have revealed, Stannis was on his way to King's Landing, having just defeated Storm's End. I skipped a lot of time getting to this chapter, which was deliberate because it would be rather dull.


	12. Arya III

**Arya**

She paced up the tent, then down, keeping the practice sword in her hand. Once in a while, she would make a mock stab or slash into the air, ending some ephemeral opponent. Her arms ached from the constant exercise, and she narrowly avoided hitting tent posts on a few occasions. _Were they still fighting?_

Arya wanted nothing more than to escape this tent, run away to her family, but the remaining guard in front of the tent would prevent that. She turned heel again, marching back towards the opposite side of the tent.

The march to King's Landing was sped up after word of Stannis turning north from Storm's End. They hadn't managed to meet with the army of Stannis in time, but they had managed to arrive in the middle of the battle. Arya was forced to wait behind in camp.

"What word from the city?" she heard the voice of Ser Greg asking.

"Stannis has taken King's Landing, but he paid dearly for it. Lord Tywin ordered us away from the walls after the gates closed. Smart, I say, given we haven't a battering ram between us." answered an unfamiliar voice, "Say, is the Stark girl still in there?"

"Why the fuck else would I be here? Seven hells, Olyvar, I knew you were stupid, but I didn't think you were that stupid."

"Sorry, sorry. It's just there's been say that the Red Keep fell with none of the Lords or Ladies in it."

" 's that right?"

" 's what they're saying." the voice answered flatly, "I must be off. I suspect the rest of the host 'll be here soon."

" Farewell, then." Greg answered boredly.

Before long, after much more pacing, Arya heard the unmistakable sound of horses galloping back into camp. "Lord Tywin" she heard Ser Greg say, before turning to see Lord Tywin enter the tent.

"Lord Lannister," Arya echoed.

"Lady Stark," Tywin sat down, noticing the practice blade, "You've been swinging that about all day now?"

She nodded, "Could've used your help then, on the field."

" You lost?"

Tywin looked furious, "Yes, we lost. Stannis has taken the city."

"The men were saying you killed many of Stannis' men." Arya tried to soothe his wrath.

"We did, and he killed many of ours. Not as many, but many. We were equally matched on the field today, the difference being, he won the capital, and we lost it."

Arya was confused, "Why are you here, my Lord? Shouldn't we be retreating?"

"We are. This camp is on the road to Rosby,the location of my grandson, Prince Tommen. We will be leaving soon."

"The men said another thing," Arya added timidly, "They say all the lords and ladies in King's Landing have gone missing."

Tywin nodded grimly, "Yes, they have. My son, daughter, and grandson included. As well as your sister." he noted.

"My Lord," a messenger appeared at the tent flap, "We are ready to fall back to Rosby."

He rose to his feet, "Very good. I shall ride in the carriage with Lady Stark. Battle wears at my old bones, these days."

The two found the carriage at the exit of the camp and entered it, the vehicle now was being flanked on both sides by a much larger mounted guard. It sped off, and the two before long found themselves in the center of a retreating host.

"What will happen now?" asked Arya

"Well, we will continue the battle here, and try to retake King's Landing. You will be taken to Casterly Rock, where we will attempt to trade you for my son. Supposing the king is alive, and I suspect he is, and your sister is accompanying him, they too will travel to Casterly Rock to survive the war."

Arya looked troubled for a moment, and Tywin asked, "What is it, girl? I thought you would be happy that your enemies lost."

" My lord, I am worried about my sister."

For the first time, Tywin looked genuinely sympathetic, "We will find your sister, alive. Starks are notoriously hard to kill."

Despite everything, this brought some level of comfort to Arya. Whatever else she could think of Tywin, he had been consistent with his promises.

They continued on the path for a long while before the cart stopped and a soldier on the side hailed Tywin. "My lord, we found him!" the guard said excitedly, "We found the King!"

Tywin left the carriage, slightly faster than normal, and Arya stared out of the opening trying desperately to see what was happening, but all she could see was the backs of guards and horses, and, noticing that they were on top of some hill, the sight of King's Landing far in the distance over some overhang, and smoke rising from it. All she could hear was the sound of shouting and orders and, finally, she heard the last thing she would have suspected. The men were cheering cheers of "Half-man!"

Before long, she saw a figure enter the carriage, "Sansa!" she could barely believe her eyes, and ran into her sister's arms.

"Arya?" Sansa was clearly in shock at seeing her presumed dead little sister, but returned the embrace nonetheless, "Why are you here?"

Arya couldn't reply, only cry into her sister's arms as two more figures entered the cart, and Arya couldn't help but stare in rage as King Joffrey and Queen Cersei entered the cart.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

It's a short one. I think it's alright,but we needed to get through this bit before we get to the next chapter, which'll be either Cat or Marg. Or, come to think, maybe it'll be Robb. We haven't actually seen him in the story yet.

To the people concerned about Ilyn being mute, and yet speaking in the last chapter: Whoops. I have now fixed that

To Aiur: I agree on the scenery, but these last two chapters have more or less been "I need the story to move on now, and I don't know how" and have been a bit lackluster as a result.

Thanks to everyone who reviews, they really are very helpful.


	13. Catelyn V

**Catelyn**

They saw Robb's Army before they saw Riverrun. The massive expedition to the westerlands seems to have ended._ Probably because of the Twins_. The tragedy of the Twins, as they were calling it, had meant that Robb needed to take part of his host back east, so that the Frey soldiers could regroup and they could attempt to send a force to secure the North. The assault on the Westerlands continued, however, as the Tyrells under Garlan had began an assault on the south of the region using the host at Bitterbridge.

Regardless of reason it did mean that the large Tyrell detachment, some 12,000 men, needed to stop well before Riverrun, nearly halfway to the castle at High Heart. The Lords of the party went forward with only Catelyn's escort to ride the rest of the way to Riverrun. As they reached the city, Catelyn felt a surge of relief at the sight of her childhood home, which had apparently shown on her face, as Margaery asked, "Did you miss Riverrun, my Lady?"

"It's always nice to see one's childhood home, Lady Margaery. If you marry my son, i'm certain you will feel similarly on visits to Highgarden." she lied. She was much more pleased to see the Stark banner flying high over the keep than anything else. _Robb was alive and well, at least for now._

It was early afternoon. As they entered the castle, they entered to cheers of "Tully!" and "Stark!", which had followed Catelyn throughout her journey through the Riverlands. The courtyard was crowded with soldiers and servants, and in front of the keep stood Lord Rickard Karstark along with several knights of the keep.

Catelyn rode up to him, a hooded Margaery and armored Loras flanking her. "Lord Karstark," she greeted, as she dismounted. "Lady Stark, it is good to see you," he glowered at his companions, but continued, "I'm afraid I am the bearer of bad news."

"What is it?" she asked quickly.

"Lord Hoster, my lady. He fell into a delirium. Your son and brother are with him now." he answered softly. The man was never very good at using any emotion other than rage, but had made a solid attempt at sympathy.

"Lord Rickard, can you escort Ser Loras and Lady Margaery to their rooms. I'm sorry, I must go to my father." she quickly ordered.

"It's alright, my Lady, your father needs you." replied Lady Margaery, despite not being spoken too.

Catelyn ran up the steps as fast as she could. She followed the familiar path to her father's chamber and found her brother sitting by his bedside. "Father! I'm here!" she called to him as she kneeled next to his bed. "Tansy?... oh ... blood... everywhere" he murmured.

"How long has this been happening? And where is Robb?" Catelyn asked Edmure

"It just started yesterday. He hasn't been responsive for a while. I knew he was sick but it just kept getting worse." he frowned, "He's with uncle in the solar. I think they're glad they got back before he..." Catelyn could tell her brother had been crying since he fell from lucidity.

"..Lysa... sorry..." Hoster murmured.

"We need to get Lysa here if she'll come. I'll go to Robb and Uncle now." she declared as she rose from Hoster's bedside. Edmure did not stir, his eyes shone with grief, and Catelyn put her hand on his shoulder, "I'll be back soon." she promised before leaving the room.

She made her way to the solar and saw Brynden standing over a map on a table, and Robb sitting at that same table, neither one moving or speaking.

"Uncle?" she asked as she entered. Brynden turned to face his niece, and brought her into an embrace. "It's good to see you Cat."

"And you, uncle. Robb?" she turned to her son, who rose to his feet.

She hugged him, and Robb softly said, "Mother." before releasing her.

She looked at both of the men, young and old, and asked, "What are you doing back in Riverrun?"

"You heard about the Twins? We had to return to the Riverlands to make sure any army they panned to land in the Freylands would be answered." answered Brynden. She had suspected they had returned because of the Twins, but now she was certain.

"How has my Father been? I heard from Edmure he hadn't been like this for long."

"Grandfather's illness got worse less than a week ago. You must've been on the road home." responded Robb, he looked up, "speaking of which, why is there a host from Highgarden less than a day's ride from Riverrun?"

Catelyn wasn't sure where to start. The news of her father was troubling her, but she knew she the Tyrells would have to be dealt with soon if their support was to be kept. "I wish this could've happened at a less troubling time. The Tyrells have agreed to join our cause."

Robb raised his eyebrows, "I thought they were allied to the late Lord Renly. Why would they simply decide to help the northern cause?"

"Renly is dead, true, but his wife is not." Robb's eyes shown with realization.

"They want me to marry Renly's widow?"

"Yes, they want you to marry Margaery Tyrell, but I refused to betroth you until without your leave. She is here to meet you, so you may decide for yourself." she stopped, thinking about how much her son was being asked to do at so young an age, "You should do that as soon as you feel able."

Robb looked heartbroken, much to Catelyn's surprise, and then turned to move away.

"I think I will retire for now. We will hold a war council after supper tonight," he added to Brynden before leaving the room. Catelyn was surprised

"I never knew how important father was to Robb."

Brynden replied quickly, "Well, it does weigh on a young man, all that he must do."

She turned to her uncle, "It is good to see you again, uncle Brynden. I must go now, I have much to attend to."

She made her way to her chambers and spend the rest of the day writing a letter to her sister, pleading to have her go to Riverrun for the sake of their father, and sending servants to warn Margaery and Loras of the impending dinner they were set to attend.

She knocked on the door, "Lady Margaery and Ser Loras? Supper is being serve in the feast hall."

"Do come in." came Margaery's voice. When the door opened she found the two Tyrells, sitting at a table facing each other.

"It's so wonderful to see you, Lady Stark," Margaery smiled her dainty smile.

"I believe it is time for you to meet Robb, my Lady."

The three rose and made their way to the feast hall, where Robb and his men were already seated. "Lady Margaery Tyrell, Ser Loras Tyrell, and Lady Catelyn Stark" announced a servant standing at the entrance, and Robb looked up to see the three as they approached the head of the long table.

"Robb, this is Lady Margaery Tyrell and her brother ser Loras." introduced Catelyn as the three took their seats, with Catelyn next to her son and the Tyrells sitting opposite the two.

"Lady Margaery and Ser Loras, this is my son, Robb Stark, King in the North and the Trident."

"A pleasure, your grace." replied Loras with a slight bow, to prevent him from hitting his head on the table.

"The pleasure is mine, I'm sure." replied Robb, his eyes grim.

"I must return the pleasure, you grace. I heard tale of the unkillable, noble and gallant young wolf for some time, but the stories never mentioned how handsome you are."

"I can't imagine what your lord father would say, pleasuring each other and not yet married." mumbled Lord Rickard as he sat next to Robb, on the other side of Catelyn.

"Yes," responded Catelyn with an icy glare at Rickard, " well, I imagine that the tales were too busy mentioning his direwolf."

"So it's real?" replied Margaery, an intense look in her eyes. As if to confirm this, Grey Wind came into the hall, and walked his way to his master's side.

At the sight of the direwolf, both Tyrells went wide eyed. "What's its name?" asked Loras, fascinated.

"Grey Wind," responded Robb. Grey Wind walked up to Margaery and sniffed at her. Catelyn tensed a moment as she thought that Grey Wind would kill the Lady, but instead the great beast merely held out his muzzle for Margaery to pet, which she obliged.

"He likes you, my Lady." Robb commented on Margaery, "That's a good sign."

The food arrived, mutton, and before long the whole of the hall was busy eating. Loras was the first to speak after the meal arrived, " I imagine you won't linger here long, your grace."

Robb looked suspicious over his raised goblet of wine, "No, we will not, ser Loras. Why do you mention it?"

"I have a host with me, your grace. I would be honored if you would allow us to fight alongside you." Loras declared with certainty in his eyes.

Robb thought for a moment, then nodded, "I accept your gracious offer, my Lord. I hope it is just the first in a long line of such acts in the friendship between Highgarden and Winterfell."

_That was very diplomatic of him. _Catelyn knew her son to be impulsive at times, but that seemed a well thought out decision for his part. Robb continued, "You should attend the war council after supper, given that you have just made our army a half again as strong as it once was."

"Of course, you grace." replied Loras, lowering his head in respect.

"My Lady Margaery, perhaps afterwards I can show you the castle?" asked Robb

"Of course, your grace. I would love to see your mother's home." Margaery said with a smile.

"Your grace," came a servant, "Your uncle tells that there's been news from Winterfell, and that you'd best call the war council now."

Robb rose dutifully, and motioned for Loras and Rickard to follow him as he made for the tower. Catelyn turned to the servant, "What was the news my uncle gave."

The servant looked sadly, "I am so sorry, my Lady. They've killed everyone in Winterfell. Including your sons."

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

I absolutely ended it there so I didn't have to deal with the grieving, thank you very much.

To Jajacob: Thanks! I like Arya the most, to be honest.

To Ironman088: Wish granted. I hope you like it


	14. Robb I

**Robb**

Robb had barely been able to contain his rage. As soon as he had heard it took all his willpower not to run to the dungeons and behead Jaime Lannister then and there. Instead he simply ordered the war council delayed while he recuperated. He didn't reconvene the meeting until early the next morning.

When he did, he found himself at a table with a map on it, looking at his councilors: Greatjon Umber, Rickard Karstark, Edmure Tully, Brynden Tully and, the newcomer, Loras Tyrell.

Greatjon spoke first, " This cannot go unanswered, your grace." he declared.

"No, it cannot," agreed Brynden, "But we can't just march back north and leave the Riverlands to the Lannisters."

"And we can't just leave the North to the Greyjoys." replied Rickard.

Robb contemplated this. He had many thousands of soldiers at his command, surely he could spare enough to stop a few Ironborn.

"Your grace?" interjected Loras, "We have more than enough soldiers of Highgarden to replace the ones you send North. And the Redwynes have a fleet larger than that of the Iron Isles." he looked at the map, "We can send the host at Highgarden north to Riverrun from the Westerlands, and let you send a detachment North to defend your homeland."

Robb nodded, "Yes, you are right. But who shall lead this force? And who shall fight in it?"

"Your grace, send northerners to defend the North. They'll fight twice as fiercely to defend their homes." replied Rickard.

"Aye, and who shall lead it?" Robb asked his eyes narrow.

"I may be able to help there," stepped in Brynden.

"You would go defend the North, uncle?" asked Robb

"No, your grace, but I know who should." he explained, "Your grace, you have yet to be married, despite the Tyrell presence. Both of your trueborn brothers are dead, your sisters are captured by Lannisters, you've no cousins to speak of." Robb looked at him quizzically at trueborn, "You need an heir, your grace."

"What you're suggesting is... unorthodox, Lord Tully." replied Robb, " Besides, I doubt he'd leave his post."

"What is it he's suggesting?" demanded Loras, nervous that his sister might be being discarded.

"To legitimize his bastard half-brother, Jon Snow." answered Brynden. The table erupted into bickering immediately afterwards, until Robb put his foot down.

"Enough!" he commanded, and the table silenced, "It won't matter if I do, he's a black brother. He wouldn't leave his post, our father taught him too well."

"Not unless his brothers made him leave," replied Brynden, smiling, "Which they would if his leaving meant another, say, 200 brothers."

"And where do you suppose we acquire these 200 brothers of the night's watch, uncle?"

"How many Lannisters do we have in the dungeons, Edmure?" asked Brynden.

"Why would they join the Night's Watch, especially for us?" asked Robb angrily.

"It is traditional that anyone sentenced to death can instead choose to live on the wall," replied Loras, "And of course, we wouldn't be sending any of the lords, who will remain our bargaining chips, just the small folk who've been captured."

"We give 'em an option, then. Either they get killed or they run to the wall." Rickard smiled at the idea.

"And we send a host to escort these 200 to the wall?" asked Robb.

"Yes, we send the men of Karstark to the North to reclaim it." proposed Brynden.

Rickard nodded at the suggestion, "Let us do it, you grace. We'll send those squids back to the sea, and bring your ba," he stopped himself, "your brother back as well."

"Uncle Edmure, send a letter to the wall. Tell them that Jon Snow is now Prince Jon Stark, and that he's to ride south to meet the host of Rickard Karstark. Be sure to include the details of the arrangement." He added at the end.

"Shall I send word to the Redwynes, your grace?" asked Loras.

"Yes, tell them to attack the Iron Fleet at their leisure." replied Robb.

"And what of the main host, your grace?" asked Greatjon.

"We will ride the morning after next to besiege Harrenhal in Lord Tywin's absence. Cut him off from the Westerlands. Karstark will ride on the morrow for Castle Black. Send a message to Lord Bolton, Lord Umber, tell him to begin the siege of Harrenhal, and that the main host will join him soon. If Tywin Lannister's host is found on the way, he is not to fight them."

"Of course, your grace." replied Greatjon as Robb rose to leave. The war council made their way out of the room, Robb leading the way. He made his way back to his room, where he was surprised to see Margaery Tyrell waiting on the council a short way down the hall.

"Lady Margaery, what are you doing here?"

"Your grace, I wanted to speak with you after the meeting," she pursed her lips, "I heard about what happened at Winterfell, I'm so sorry."

Robb blinked back any hint of tears at the thought of his dead brothers, "Yes, I... thank you, Lady Margaery."

"Please, just call me Margaery, your grace." responded Margaery softly.

"Very well, then call me Robb." He entered his chambers, and motioned fro Margaery to follow him, " I suppose it's for the best, if we are really going to be married." mused Robb, failing on bringing lightness to the situation.

"Are we?" she asked pointedly

"We are. I need your father's armies and he wants his daughter on a throne." he responded flately.

Margaery failed in hiding some level of disappointment at Robb's coolness, " I see."

Robb could see that he hurt her, "I'm sorry Margaery. I just..." he was still trying to get over the grief.

"No, it's alright." she said briskly, "You just lost your brothers, you have every right to be upset."

Robb finally sat down on his bed, and this time couldn't stop his tears. Margaery sat next to him, and brought him into an embrace. After a few moments of grieveing and Margaery doing all she could to comfort heim, Robb finally looked at her, "Thank you Margaery." he said, warmly.

"It's my pleasure." she responded, and she rose to leave the room, "I must be returning, wouldn't want anyone to think the wrong thing."

"Indeed not" replied Robb, and watched as Margaery left the room. Robb had been surprised by Margaery's kindness. _Perhaps marrying her wouldn't be so bad._

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

I like it, though I frankly am pretty bad at grieving. I think it turned out okay, though. Also, in case anyone wants to question it, the host in the Westerlands is fighting with the Tyrell host. Tywin is still in the Crownlands, and Harrenhal is occupied by Gregor Clegane. And yes, Jon Snow was legitimized in the books, and yes, he is at this point beyond the wall with Ygritte and the lot.

Also I don't remember if there were Lannister prisoners beyond the Lords and so on, but allow me this small digression.


	15. Brienne II

**Brienne**

She hadn't dared enter King's Landing. She saw the smoke of the burning city long before she laid eyes on it, and Stannis Baratheon's banners flying high over the Red Keep. She had heard on the way that Tywin's relief had failed, or that it hadn't succeeded enough, but that Stannis had cracked open an empty egg. The court had left, they said, and now were in Rosby with Tywin, or else wherever Tywin's army was.

So she had turned her mount northwards once more, but had needed to stop for her horse's feed on the way north at a small hamlet. She entered the local Tavern and asked the server after the needed food and a drink. She turned to find a seat at the main table when she noticed a group of five young men sitting there being lewd to the tavern girl. She decided against stirring these lions, and instead sat at another table, where only one solitary man sat quietly.

"Do you mind if I join you?" she asked as a pleasantry. The man merely grunted, and she sat down, noticing his terrible scars.

She noticed the way the men looked at him. Whispering something about the recent battle. "You fight?" she asked the scarred man.

"Yeah," he responded after while, nursing his drink, "I fight."

"You fought in the battle at King's Landing?" she asked quickly.

He looked up, and she saw the hound helm by his side. "You're a Clegane aren't you?" she asked quietly, to which he glowered.

"Who are you?" he asked, voice gruff.

"I am Brienne of Tarth." she answered, nobility in her voice.

"You're an ugly cunt" he remarked.

She was going to berate the man, when one of the Lannisters at the nearby table came close. "You," he remarked, pointing at the burnt man, "You ran away. You lost us the battle you cunt." He said, his words slurred. _I am getting tired of drunken men with swords._

The burnt man looked at the newcomer, "Fuck the battle."

The man looked furious, "You ran away from the king, you coward."

He glowered, his face impassible, "Fuck the king."

The drunk drew a knife,"You say that one more time," he pointed the blade at Brienne, "I'll kill your whore."

He gave a huff, "She's not mine," he frowned, "too ugly." he repeated the insult.

"Oh really?" he asked. Brienne was on edge, ready for a fight. The man then suddenly made a move to knife her.

She grabbed the man's arm and twisted hard, causing the man to yelp in pain. The men at the other table rose, drawing their weapons. The scarred man threw the table at the drunk, knocking him flying around the room. Brienne drew her sword, in battle stance. The barkeep and his daughter retreated to the loft of his store, and the fight began.

Brienne charged the first man she saw, and his blade met hers in a downward slash. She brought her sword up for a feint, which he bought and found his blade much too high to block a fatal blow to the chest.

A second man made to attack her as the blade was being forced out, but the scarred man cleaved into his ribs, causing him to die from the blow. The last two charged together, swords in hand, and Brienne and the man met their blades. Brienne couldn' see what the other man was doing, but made quick work of her opponent, who was much too slow to stop her blade slicing through his throat.

Brienne had finished with her man just in time to see the other fall to his knees, his entrails in his own hands. The large scarred man walked over to the man under the table. sending his blade into the man's heart. _He was a damned good fighter. I could use his help._

The man then cleaned his blade, and turned to leave the room. "We need to leave here." Brienne warned him. He continued walking, calmly walking to a waiting horse in the stable.

"The Lannisters will kill us if we fight alone." she added.

"You, maybe." he answered. She mounted and followed him as he rode away from King's Landing.

"Who do you fight for?" she asked seriously

"I don't fight for anyone" he answered gruffly.

"Would you fight for coin?" she asked, desperate.

"You don't have enough." he dismissed.

"I don't," she admitted, "But the Starks might."

He stopped his horse and turned to face her, "Why would the Starks pay me?"

"For saving their daughters." she answered.

"Their daughters are with the army of Tywin Lannister." he looked grim.

"Aye," she admitted, "all the more coin for saving them."

He stopped for a moment as if to ponder the idea. "We'd need more than just us." he decided eventually.

"We can get more than just us," she offered, desperation masked in her voice, " plenty of Stark gold to go around, Tyrell too."

He contemplated this, and eventually said, "Sandor Clegane."

_The hound?_

"What?" Brienne was bewildered

"My name is Sandor Clegane," he replied, "figure you should know, if we're going to work together."

Brienne smiled at that, "Very well then, Sandor Clegane."

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

Short for midterms. I apologize

I don't have any reviews to respond to, so I guess I'll just say thanks to everyone who did review, and to everyone who even bothers to read this.


	16. Catelyn VI

**Catelyn**

There was much for Catelyn to do. After Olenna Tyrell's arrival in Riverrun along with the Lord Willas, who agreed to Riverrun to support how he could, as his injury prevented from fighting, the planning for the royal wedding had begun. It was to be a grand occasion on Olenna's orders, with wines and food being brought from Highgarden across battle lines, and royal finery being brought in from the Free cities to the port of Oldtown.

Catelyn thought the whole thing rather excessive and feared the northern lords would feel the same, but Olenna insisted on the point, emphasizing how her son would be gravely disappointed if any less was provided. Catelyn thought the very idea of an lavish weding during a war rather ridiculous, and near begged Olenna to refrain from as much luxury as possible, which she begrudgingly accepted. Olenna's demands and nitpicking on the details of the wedding often left her fussing for hours with Margaery. This was only a problem as it kept the young lady away from Catelyn, keeping her unable to get a proper read on the woman. _Truly, the Queen of Thorns can be quite prickly._

The times the two did speak, which was mostly dinners Catelyn had held for the Tyrells in her solar (a return of the favor given at Bitterbridge), the subject inevitably drifted onto Robb. The poor young man had a legend growing around him, and Margaery seemed enthralled with every detail. Willas did, as well, though it seemed he was far more interested in Grey Wind then the Young Wolf himself. _He had been a surprise. _Catelyn had grown not to expect much of Tyrells, save Loras of course, but Willas had proven a kindly soul, wise beyond his years, who seemed to appreciate animals more than soldiers. _Perhaps it's only the women in the Tyrell family who are so conniving. _Though that didn't leave Robb any better.

Olenna had not, however, taken over all of the arrangements, and had left much to Catelyn. Willas had agreed to help her where he could, and had been busying himself with making sure monetary needs were met, as well as the vast arrangements for feeding the army and keeping up logistics. He and Robb had begun occasional communications from the front, and had developed some sort of code to ensure messages were not intercepted. _He would make a fine master of coin for Robb._

In the meanwhile, however, she was visiting her ailing father with her brother. He had continued murmuring about Lysa and blood, and they had attempted to comfort him as much as possible, but feared he wouldn't be responsive until Lysa arrived. This was an issue, as she had flat out refused to attend the wedding, and had not responded to the call for their ailing father. Catelyn knew he would not survive this illness. After around an hour of waiting by his bedside, Catelyn put her hand on her brother's shoulder, "We must return to your solar. The Tyrells are awaiting us." He nodded sadly, and rose to join her. He was not a key part of the arrangements, but he was the Lord of the Castle, and as he had been commanding the garrison, it was seen as prudent he would attend.

The arrived in the solar and saw Olenna sitting on a stool, two servants waiting on her, as she spoke to her granddaughter, as had become a quick custom. "Ladies Tyrell," greeted Catelyn.

"Oh, do come child." replied Olenna, voice much to upbeat for her normal tone, "We have much to discuss."

Edmure sat down at his desk, found his documents, and began working on guard orders and dispatches throughout the castle. Catelyn sat down at the rounded table where the Tyrells were sitting, "What is it you would like to talk about?"

Margaery smiled sweetly, " We understand that much of the guests are to arrive here with the host, but there are several who are not. My parents, obviously, as well as a few other relations in the Reach are among them, but while sending these we were wondering if you had any to add?" She hadn't, and she said as such.

Olenna interjected, "Well, we had wondered if you would ask after Prince Jon, child. It seems fitting the heir be attending the marriage of the king, afterall." That struck a nerve with Catelyn. She had been horrified by Robb's legitimizing of the bastard, and had very nearly shouted at her son then and there. _How dare he make the bastard a Stark?_ But he did, and after the rage subsided, Catelyn finally clearly saw what he was doing. He was trying to keep her husband's legacy as safe as she could, and for that she was thankful.

"We have not heard from the wall yet, and given that Lord Rickard's host has yet to arrive at Castle Black as far as we're aware, it seems doubtful that Jon even knows he's been made a full Stark." she pursed her lips, "If we get word that he's been released from the service of the Night's Watch, we shall send him an invitation, as would be proper." she concluded, sounding as if the decision had been made.

"Very well then, child," replied Olenna sounding more herself, "and I think it would be best if you found Willas, he seemed quite concerned, and had been off looking for you."

"Very well, my lady." she agreed, desperate to avoid more wedding planning, "Did he say what about?"

"No but he insisted you were to know before I," she frowned, "So you must see him immediately, as I don't like not knowing things."

Catelyn left, trying not to think much of the last comment, and made to find Willas, when he found her first. She heard the sound of his cane hit the floor and looked to see him limping his way over to her. "Lady Catelyn!" he said, his kind, brown eyes beleaguered with pain, " I received a raven today." _Black wings, black words. _He continued, " Jon is not at the wall. He went on a ranging beyond the wall with Qhorin Halfhand and hasn't been seen since."

"That is a shame, but we mustn't lose hope." she responded resolutely.

Willas looked somewhat taken aback, "That is very... courageous of you, my Lady."

"Starks are hard to kill, Willas, I do not fear for him." _If only they were impossible to kill._

"I pray that is true, for my sister's sake, if nothing else," he stopped, worried he may have been hasty with his words, but when Catelyn looked unperturbed continued, " Robb has also sent news. He has begun the siege of Harrenhal, and my brother Garlan has forced Kevan Lannister to retreat from Payne Hall, though he has taken some losses in the attempt."

"That is good to hear. How are our supply lines?" she asked, knowing she may not understand the answer fully, but wanting to encourage the young man. _Not so young, in fact, but young enough that she felt it right._

"They are well, my Lady. My brother has opened the roads from Highgarden to Riverrun, and supplies will soon be flowing freely."

She smiled at that, "And our finances?"

He frowned a little, "War is expensive, my Lady. But we are managing well. My father's gold is paying for our supplies, and the lords of the north have contributed enough that we are surviving without debt. I have taken some overhead out to ensure this remains the case." he finished.

Catelyn held one of Willas' hands in hers, "You are doing wonderfully, Willas. You truly are a gift to our cause."

"Thank you, Lady Stark." he responded smiling once more.

Catelyn asked Willas to accompany her to the great hall, so they might talk, to which he agreed.

"Have you been hawking recently? Your sister told me you have a passion for it." she asked.

"No, my Lady. Managing the war effort has been taxing that ability, as has the fact that my hawks remain in Highgarden, along with my horses." he responded.

"I'm sorry to hear that." she responded as they entered the room.

"It's quite alright" replied Willas, in his kind way, though it seemed there was something bothering him.

Catelyn noticed this and ventured, "Willas, is there something troubling you?"

Willas frowned for the second time in so many minutes, "Do you know how I got my injury?" he asked unusually somberly.

"I know it was in a jousting accident, a tragedy, for which I'm very sorry."

He looked kindly at her, "It is quite alright. That was a long time ago, but are you aware who gave me the injury?"

"Oberyn Martell," she recalled, "though I was lead to believe that all had been forgiven between you. That you had even become friends, much to your families mutual confusion."

He laughed at her jape, "Yes, well, he has asked to attend the wedding. He said he wished to see me, as well as see my sister be we." his somberness returned, "It is most unlike him. He did not attend Garlan's wedding, nor has he expressed any desire to attend the wedding of a northerner before, to my knowledge."

Catelyn looked at him, as the two continued through the empty room, "You think he has some ulterior motive?"

"I do, my Lady. I believe the dornish want something of the king and my sister." he confided

She looked at his kind eyes, "Or maybe Prince Oberyn Martell wanted to see his friend after so many years. But even if he is coming for something, it is not your fault."

Her efforts to cheer him up seemed to have worked, and he thanked her for it. "Now, I believe you should bring this news to our grandmother. She seemed very eager to hear."

"Yes, I should go, my Lady." He leaned on his cane, and made his way towards the exit when a messenger burst into the hall.

"Lady Stark!" he called in.

"What is it?" she replied coldly.

"A message for you, from the Young Wolf 'imself." he replied, a grin on his face.

"What news is there?" asked Willas as she read the letter.

She smiled broadly, "Tywin is marching towards King's Landing. He's going to fight in a bloodbath to reclaim the city."

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

Whew. This one was... interesting. I quite enjoyed writing about Willas, given how incredibly uncharacterized he was in the books. I think the kind and gentle persona suits him well.

To Parzival vi Britannia and Senpen Banka: I thought it a nice twist. And I mean, why not?

To Incognito.15: Thanks, man

Tyrion is next, then Jon.


	17. Tyrion III

**Tyrion**

The former acting hand of the king sat in the hall of Rosby Castle, contemplating how the title sounded like some sort of distant relation. _Second son's third cousin twice removed on his mother's side. _He remained deep in contemplation on it before this was interrupted by an intrusive friend. "'Ello, milord." greeted Bronn.

"Hello, my friend, come sit," said Tyrion beckoning the position opposite him, "drink."

"Don't mind if I do," he said jovially, "So, you're staying here for the battle?"

"I don't even know what my father's plans are. He's all but disowned me, now." replied Tyrion.

"I thought you saved the entire court at King's Landing. Some lady I found on the road here called you a hero. Even screamed your name when I was fucking her."

"Tell her that I am touched by the sentiment" said Tyrion with a wry smile, "Yes, well, much as that is true, my father was offended I would even suggest surrendering the Red Keep. He heavily implied that I had lost him the city." his smile faded as quickly as it came.

"Maybe that's what he thinks, but the bards are singing a different tune." commented Bronn, "The imp who saved a king. The little lion who spirited the court from King's Landing, like Loren the Clever."

"That poor bard. As soon as my father hears of that he'll have his balls chopped off."

Bronn shrugged, " I doubt he'd worry about that. What with all the other ones singing about 'the King who ran away'."

Tyrion laughed, "You always know how to cheer me up," he looked into his glass of wine, "Did you bring Tommen here?"

"'Course milord," Bronn replied candidly, "I liked the boy. An improvement on 'is brother, that's for damn sure."

"Yes, he is a sweet child." remarked Tyrion, "I hope he manages to get out of this alive."

"Don't care if the other one does?" asked Bronn quitely.

"I just don't think he will. Not anymore, with the Tyrells allying with the North." he sipped his cup, "We're fresh out of potential allies. Your sellswords are near, I trust?"

"No," he replied, "Most left after the battle. They'll be back if your father wins the city, but if not they'll go over to Stannis, I imagine." Bronn took a swig of wine.

"So we just have what remains of the King's Guard defending us then. And the Rosby guard of course."

"Why? You think Stannis will attack us behind your father's army."

"He killed Renly in the middle of his army," remarked Tyrion, "I don't see why he couldn't kill Joffrey in a poorly defended castle."

"Then why haven't you had him guarded?" asked Bronn.

"I didn't need too. Cersei has half the King's Guard around Joffrey and Tommen's room. If so much as a large group of bandits decided to attack we'd be undermanned at the gates." he drank more wine, "Have you heard what they're saying about Payne hall?" he asked more seriously.

"I 'ave not, milord."

"They're saying the Tyrell's have captured it, with all their gallantry. Sacked the castle and the nearby village." he said quietly, "I don't want to have to tell Podrick of this, but I fear I have no other choice."

"Well, you best tell the boy soon. He best know about it."

Tyrion thought on it, and decided to act on the advice, "Very well, would you accompany me?"

"I've nothing better to do." replied Bronn in his normal style.

The pair walked up a long set of stair and found their way to one of the many occupied rooms of the castle. When they entered they found Pod laughing with Sansa Stark, while Arya looked bored while practicing swinging a sword. Bronn pointed at Arya, "Who is that one?"

"Bronn, that is Arya Stark, sister to Sansa Stark and Robb Stark, as well as Tommen's betrothed." he said while Arya scowled at the words, "Pod, I'm afraid I have need of you. Bronn could you stay here while I tell Pod the news?"

Bronn consented and Tyrion took Pod out of the room, "I'm afraid I have some terrible news. Payne Hall has been sacked by the Tyrells."

Pod looked somewhat sad, then replied sadly, "I suspected it might've happened sooner or later. They didn't much like me there anyway."

Tyrion patted him on the shoulder, a feat which he was somewhat capable in performing, and started to console him on the matter when a great shouting erupted from down the castle hall. Tyrion rushed into the room where the Starks were being kept, and turned to Bronn, "There's a problem, my ladies, Pod will protect you so long as you stay here, you come with me." and the pair ran back to the great hall and on to the courtyard where a melee had broken out.

Shabbily dressed bandits had climbed the walls and begun an attack against the main gate while most of the guards were busy sleeping or guarding Joffrey. Bronn grinned as they saw the melee, "You should become a bloody prophet."

"Not the time, Bronn. Ser Balon, how many are there?" he demanded of the Guard who sliced a bandit down before responding, "Maybe two dozen. We have this one milord." He grinned at the prospect of a victorious battle. Bronn drew his blade, ready to fight, but Tyrion held out a hand, "No, Bronn. No one is stupid enough to attack a fortress with an eighth of the force inside unless they have a plan."

Bronn turned, " I know, milord, that's why I was going after the two who entered through the side gate." he said, running towards the gate. Tyrion began to follow him, but upon a quick thought, turned instead to the entrance of the castle. _If they're after Joffrey, I'd be no use. But if they're after the Starks..._

He turned the corner and found the door of the Starks and bolted in. Pod had gotten into some armor and was brandishing a spear, but thankfully was not fast enough to kill Tyrion before recognizing him. "Seven hells, Pod, watch where you're swinging that thing." He turned to the Starks, "Are you two alright?" he asked quickly.

"Why would you care?" retorted Arya at the same time as Sansa's "I'm fine."

He turned to Podrick, "I think we're going to have some company, Pod. Stay watch on the door, if anyone comes, kill them. I'm going to find Bronn." He turned the corner and, damn his luck, found Bronn mid duel with a brute of a man and his bastard sword. _Was that the hound?_

Tyrion looked to the wall and found an ancient relic of the family's, what looked to be an old dagger, and lifted it into his grip. "Pod, block the door!" he shouted as he ran back towards the stairs, beyond which lay Joffrey's rooms. He found a group of guards, 6 strong, and shouted at them to follow him.

"My Lord, we must protect the King!" one of them replied, and Tyrion, in a rage ordered half of them follow at least. Two did.

They arrived back in the hall where Bronn and the Hound's duel continued, neither able to gain the upper hand, when the two King's Guard were upon the Hound. Tyrion was blocked into the staircase, trying to find some opening to get to the Stark girls, to make sure they were safe. He found this very opening when Bronn parried a blow from the Hound, sending him flying into one of the King's Guard.

Tyrion jumped over the fallen knight, and ran to the Starks room, where he found the door ajar. Fearing the worst, he ran in and found Pod facing down a knight with blade held in the off hand, seemingly trying to reason with him. Tyrion saw his opportunity, and brought the dagger into the knights exposed gap between cuirass and greaves. _Well done, stab a man in the ass. _The knight's massive mailed fist flung back and knocked Tyrion flying backwards.

"Now Sansa!" shouted Arya, and the two jumped as quickly as they could out of the room, while Pod took the initiative to stab at the man. _No, woman. _Tyrion saw the helmet had come off, but she deftly blocked the blow in a sweep up of her blade.

"Sandor!" she screamed, using the break to run after the Stark girls.

Tyrion managed to rise to his feet, looked at Podrick, ordered "Pod! Now!" and ran after the brutish woman, followed by his squire. As he left he saw Bronn had survived the duel with the Hound, and was pursuing him side by side with Tyrion, all the while shouting insults at the man. They found their way to the stables, where the woman and the Hound had arrived moments later, and saw the Stark girls riding away.

"Dammit! Sandor we need to catch them." she told the Hound.

"Aye, take a horse." he replied as he mounted one of the remaining horses.

"Stop!" shouted Tyrion in protest, through heavy breaths. The two quickly mounted on the steeds, both of which had saddles already on, and galloped off before Bronn could catch them.

"Damn them! Quickly, mount up and we'll catch them," Tyrion ordered Bronn, desperate.

"Begging your pardon, but the Starks have a hell of a head start. We'll take days to catch them." replied Bronn.

Tyrion stopped, thinking about what to do when a duo of King's Guard found him. Tyrion began ordering them, "You, which of these horses are the fastest?" The three looked at each other, and one, who was holding a loaded crossbow, let a bolt loose, which narrowly missed Tyrion's head. The other one drew his swod, and Bronn and Podrick both charged in. _Damn Cersei, she's stilling trying to kill me._ Tyrion checked his purse, making sure he was holding enough gold to buy supplies for such a long journey, and turned to find three horse, finding several meant for outriders which were already saddled with adequate travel gear. He brought them out as best he could, and found that Bronn had finished the two guardsmen. "You two, mount up. Now!" he ordered, to which they obliged, Pod first helping Tyrion onto his own horse.

"Where are we going my Lord?" asked Podrick, worry in his voice.

Tyion grimaced, "After the Starks. Ride!"

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

Hey look plot happened!

Jon's next. I've been looking forward to his chapter for a while now.

Edit: A couple of fixes were needed to clarify a few things and fix a deus ex machina that frankly I didn't even think about. Thank you to Aiur for the fixes.


	18. Jon I

**Jon**

Jon was sleeping on the hardened earth on the foothills of the gift. Styr's party had managed to make their way past the wall. It had been a few days now, and they were well on their way to Castle Black. Ygritte had not been hesitant to sleep on the same roll as Jon, and he woke, as such, with her in his arms.

He was glad for her warmth. Even south of the wall, the coming winter chilled everything. He was glad for other reasons as well, though he wouldn't think it. His joy began to consume him more than he had expected, he noticed, and he heard his heart pounding in his head, like the sound of a distant cavalry charge. _Strangely, though, he didn't feel his heart pounding._ He sprang to his feet as soon as he figured out what was happening, and saw a rising dust cloud approaching from not far away. "Ambush!" he cried and Ygritte turned to look at him, first disheveled by the sudden awakening then springing to her feet as well.

Jon drew his sword, and saw the Wildlings rise up as fast as they could, preparing their weapons for a fight. The cavalry charged over the hill and were upon them faster than anyone could think.

Jon quickly assessed the situation. He saw a cavalry wedge lodging it's way through the center of the camp, cutting the party in two. He saw a bannerman waving a black flag high over the charge. He was running towards the broken center of the party while trying to see the banner. _House Karstark? Why are Robb's banners here, and not with him in the Riverlands?_ He realized the chaos the charge had caused, and saw the cavalry force managed to get through the camp. _Now's my chance._ Jon ran through the path of the charge, running towards where the cavalry charge came from. He was nearing the edge of the party when he heard a familiar voice, "Jon Snow!"

Ygritte was pointing at him to notice the cavalry coming around to destroy what was left of the army. His distraction was long enough that a rider had quickly moved in to cut him down. He raised his sword fast as he could to parry, but he was too slow. Or he would have been had an arrow not sprouted in the small of his back. He looked to the source and saw Ygritte looking at him, grinning. He returned the grin, but then noticed a rider coming for her as well. "Ygritte!" he screamed pointing at the rider. She turned just in time to see the lance glide through her rib cage, the ridder releasing it so that he may continue his ride.

He ran to her, as fast as he could. He dodged blades and spears until he managed to reach her body. She was already growing colder when he held her, his knees buckling. Her eyes were staring lifelessly to the sky while his began to mist. "No, no, no, Ygritte, no." he whispered sadly. He was in his own world of grief, forgetting the world around him. Around him the horsemen circled, creating a barrier from the rest of the world. They were shouting something to one of their number about swords and wildlings. One of them, evidently the captain, made to talk to him, "Well well well, what have we hear?" his voice full of ire.

Jon merely looked up from Ygritte's fallen form.

"You got a mighty nice sword there," he noted Longclaw in Jon's hand. "Wildlings don't normally carry swords. Did ya' get it from fallen ranger? Or maybe you brought it from the wall yourself?" He dismounted, drawing his sword and bringing the point to Jon's neck, "Were you a ranger boy?"

"I am a brother of the Night's Watch." Jon bit off every word

"Former brother, you mean?" he japed, " Did you take that sword off Mormont?"

"Lord Commander Mormont gave it to me." he replied, still icy.

"Why would the honorable Lord Commander Mormont give an oathbreaker like you his most prized possession?" the captain sardonically asked.

"He wanted me to be his successor," Jon could barely stop the urge to kill the man, " I was there when he died."

The captain smiled at that, "You may be of use afterall, boy. Come on lads, tie him up. Lord Karstark will want to see him."

Jon didn't have it in him to fight back when he was disarmed and bound. He was forced onto a riderless horse and was driven on with the rest of the men. _How far were they from Castle Black? A day, maybe?_

They rode for the rest of the day before they found themselves at the familiar gate, but inside he found where once was a mostly empty courtyard was a large army under Direwolf and Sunburst banners. He was forced off the horse and brought up to the Lord Commander's house, where he found an old man with a grey beard and long hair, wearing armor emblazoned with the sunburst of house karstark, sitting behind the desk. Jon, still bound, was forced into a chair by the horse captain, and looked directly at the man.

"We found him with the wildlings you sent us to ambush, sir. He had a valyrian steel sword, and claims to be a brother of the watch."

The lord took a drink from a nearby flagon. When he spoke, his voice was grave, "Were you on the ranging, boy?"

"Aye, my Lord. I was." Jon's rage had cooled, and now he was left only with guilt.

The lord looked at the sword presented him, "Who gave you this sword?"

"Commander Mormont, my Lord." Jon replied simply.

"What's your name, boy?" Karstark asked, still retaining his icy tone.

"Jon Snow, my Lord."

Karstark looked up, suddenly interested, "Are you lying to me, boy?"

"No. Ask any of my brothers, they'll tell you."

He then turned to the captain, "Fetch the Tarly boy." The captain left with a quick affirmation, leaving the room to the two men.

"If you're Jon Snow, I have a question for you." he said bluntly.

"And that is?"

"What is my daughter's name?"

He remembered years ago, dancing with a Karstark girl on a visit to winterfell, "Alys. She visited us when she was eight. She was much more interested in Robb than me, I recall."

The man laughed a hearty laugh, "Jon! We've finally found you." he continued his thunderous laughter until Sam entered the room.

"Jon, you're alive?" he said unbelieving, and he stormed to hug him.

Jon bewilderedly returned the embrace, but Sam kept talking, "We were worried you'd never come back. Lord Rickard came up North with 200 Lannister soldiers who'd take the black in exchange for you giving it up. They were going to take the men back given how you were gone and all, but now you're back and can leave..." he blurted out before being interrupted by Lord Karstark.

"That's quite enough, lad." he said, good humor in his voice. He looked at Jon, "You came back just in time. We were going to leave tomorrow if you didn't show up, your grace."

Jon was still shocked when he caught the last part of the comment, "Your grace?" he echoed, "I'm a bastard. I'm certainly no king."

Lord Karstark laughed more, "True, no King," he consented, "Though no longer a bastard. Your brother made you a Stark, and given he's the king, that makes you a prince."

Jon Stark was bewildered, "Why would he do that to Bran?"

Lord Rickard's humor suddenly left him, his visage filled with sympathy where there once was humor, "You haven't heard, boy?" he asked gently.

Sam's face too took up the mournful look, and Jon looked at him and asked, "Heard what?"

"Your brothers are dead, Jon." he said sadly, "They were killed."

Jon felt a second wave of grief come over him, "How?"

"Theon Greyjoy," answered Lord Karstark, " He killed them and burned Winterfell to the ground. We marched by there as we came here, but the coward fled long before we made it there."

Jon's face fell into his hands, and he felt his tears begin to run down his face. Lord Karstark spoke as kindly as he could, "It's not your fault they died, lad. But you must avenge them."

Sam spoke, "Your brother wants you to defend the North, Jon."

Jon looked up, looking at the Lord seated before him, "There is a wildling army marching on the wall. If I'm to defend the North, I must defend it here before I fight the Greyjoys."

The man's face turned towards anger, "They burnt your home, they butchered your brothers, they must be punished."

"And I will punish them." he replied, his face hardening, "I will kill every damn Greyjoy I find, but that won't matter when thousands of wildlings are invading from beyond the wall."

"You mean not to forsake your vows?" asked Sam.

_Damn it all, I want to. _"No"

Rickard looked furious, "Your brother needs you boy. Damnit the North needs you."

"Jon, they'll give as an extra 200 brothers." Sam chided, "You're a good fighter and all, but you aren't the same as 200 men."

"I took an oath."

"And you've been released from your oath." countered Sam.

"What?" Jon was dumbfounded.

"There was a vote," offered Lord Karstark, bitterly, "200 men for one man who was as good as dead. It was almost unanimously accepted, save only the maester."

Jon looked at Sam with derision, "You too?"

"You were dead, Jon," he countered, "I wish I could leave."

"It doesn't matter," replied Jon, "We need to stay at the Wall anyway."

Lord Karstark roared, "What? You would let the men who butcherd your brothers, who burnt your home to the ground go free in your lands?"

"No, but there's an army of wildlings coming. It won't matter if the Greyjoys are there if they get over the Wall," Jon stood up, "I will forsake my vows, but I won't forsake the North."

Lord Karstark looked sullen, but nodded in agreement, "Very well then, your grace. I'll follow you into battle beyond the wall, but we'd better be finished here soon." Jon nodded at that, and Sam and Jon left the room to him.

"How long until the host of Mance arrives, d'you think?" asked Sam, after they stepped out.

"Maybe a few days, now." replied Jon sullenly.

"D'you think we'll win, what with this army here?"

Jon suddenly had an idea. It was a longshot, but it was an idea. "Maybe. Maybe we won't have to fight at all."

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

It'll do. I had to rewrite this one twice, and even so I think it's too much an emotional rollercoaster for Jon.

Next is Arya? Robb? Brienne? one of the two. It'll be shorter, so I'm hoping to get two chapters out tomorrow.

to Aiur: All true. So true, in fact, that I went back and changed it so it made some bloody sense. What can I say, midterms distracted me.

to Incognito.15: It was a sort of spur of the moment thing, I suppose. Wasn't a tremendous amount of thought put in. Also, I think you may underestimate Sansa.


	19. Brienne III

**Brienne**

Brienne and Sandor were crouching in some bushes, taking shifts watching over the Stark girls. They found them sleeping a while off the road, and decided to guard them and escort them to Riverrun. Brienne woke them, gently as possible, making the mistake of starting with Arya and receiving a punch to the face for it. It had take some convincing, but Sandor seemed to eventually be able to convince Sansa that they wanted to bring her to Riverrun, who in turn convinced Arya.

It was five days after, and they had ridden along the long path to Riverrun for some time now. It would take them another three before they reached the castle walls, but now they had a larger problem on their hands. They more or less followed the King's Road, but never actually followed it for fear of bandits, which worked until now, they had to turn west. The road west, however, went directly under the shadow of Harrenhal.

The topic was on Brienne's mind as she roused the Stark girls and the party mounted for another long days journey. "Sandor, we should ride North."

"If we go North we'll be killed by bandits." Sandor grunted, the party now mounted and departing.

"If we go past Harrenhal, the Lannisters will kill us." Brienne countered, noticing Arya's eyes growing angry at mention of the fortress.

"The Lannisters won't go beyond the walls of the keep, now that Tywin has lost his battle." he replied gruffly.

Brienne was hesitant to consent, but it was likely true. They rode on for a while, riding up from behind a tree lined hill. "How long until we reach Riverrun, ser?" asked Sansa in her polite way to Sandor.

"Maybe three days, if we're lucky." replied Brienne.

"I wonder what..." mused Sansa when they had ridden over the hill and saw the devastation. Fires spread throughout the hedgerows and fields. There was smoke rising up from the distance, and far in background stood Harrenhal, looking like a massive gravestone overlooking the death of the Riverlands.

"The bastard!" shouted Arya, "He did it, he killed them all."

Brienne's eyes had widened at the sight, before asking, "Who?"

"The mountain." she replied, face blank.

She turned to see the Hound's face somehow more dour than normal. Arya looked at him, "Do you know him."

"Aye, he's my brother." he replied, voice cold.

"He's a monster." replied Arya, as the party began to ride down the hill. The hound merely grunted in response.

Brienne stared at the destruction before her, unable to look away, as they made their way to the lowlands around Harrenhal. After a few hours of riding they found their clearing another hilltop tree-line, drawing ever closer to the fortress. On their way up the second hill, they saw the path grow darker from the canopy's increasing volume. _I have a bad feeling about this._ She looked at Sandor, and he nodded as if he was as uncomfortable as she was. They suddenly heard a voice from behind them.

"Sers?" a ragged old sounding man called, "Can you help me my lords?"

The parties head's shot around to see the man. He was hunched over, under a gray cloak, the only part of him exposed was an outstretched hand with a cup in it.

"No, beggar." snarled the Hound. Brienne wanted to help, and despite having nothing to give, wanted to at least help the man in some way. She dismounted, but the beggar didn't acknowledge it.

"Please, ser" the man begged Sandor.

The hound stared daggers at him, "I said..." he snarled a response before an arrow sprouted from his horses sie, causing it to throw him off. The horse ran away, and the hound screamed in agony as he landed. Brienne drew a sword and back towards the Stark girls. They were suddenly surrounded by bandits, and the beggar rose from his hunch to reveal he was young, bearded man, brandishing a sword. _There were 14, maybe 15 of them. Too many to take._ She ran to help Sandor to his feet, but the former beggar put his blade to Sandor's neck.

"Get away from him!" she commanded.

The man looked at her and said, "What about the man behind you?"

She was startled by his response, before she noticed the dagger at her throat, "Sorry, milady," said the bucktoothed rouge behind her, "I'm afraid we'll be apprehendin' your party now."

She didn't move, but saw the Stark girls had been dismounted and were being held hostage. "Who are you?" she said struggling to avoid the dagger.

"We're the Brotherhood without banners, milady. We were told that you'd kidnapped two ladies, and we're inclined to bring them back."

Sandor was struggling to move, but growled, "So you're whoring for the Imp?" he asked. The man laughed, "Oh no, he only informed us of his position." Two men came out of the woods to hold each of the hounds arms as he was tied, and the man behind Brienne tied her hands as well, "You'll be seeing him soon."

As they were being tied together and forced onto a horse, Brienne asked, "Where did you bring the Stark girls?"

The man laughed again, "Not far."

_ Seven hells, they're bringing them to Harrenhal._

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

Short as promised, next chapter will be as well. I'm going to keep the non-intrigue stuff shorter because frankly I don't think I'm very good at it.

Quindecim: I didn't want to kill Ygritte, actually. That was the reason I had to keep rewriting the last chapter, I just couldn't think of a convincing reason for her to live through the raid. But now she dead.

Colo Kid: Thanks, man!


	20. Robb II

**Robb**

The army was ready. Robb looked at the fortress before him. The castle's towers and walls were massive, and the simple scale of Harrenhal was daunting. It was, at it's core, an overgrown castle, with four smaller towers and a huge keep in its center. The walls were higher than the tallest towers of Winterfell, so catapults were of limited use. Battering Rams would be needed to take the gates, or ladders and grapples to climb the walls. An attack would be nearly impossible if it were fully manned, even in its ruined state. _But it isn't fully manned, not even close._

Tywin had left hastily, and only 500 men remained when he did. Lord Bolton said he almost attempted to take the castle before Robb even arrived as an early wedding gift, but his lines were raided by the Mountain's men. Lord Roose instead decided to buckle down on their attempts to sally forth, and managed to gather intelligence on the castle's occupants. Evidently half of the total force was a mercenary company called the Brave Companions, who had not enjoyed working with their Lannister overlords. _I doubt they would die for the Lannisters._

"Your grace," ser Loras Tyrell asked, "When shall we attack?"

Robb turned from the fortress to see the knight of flowers, "Soon, ser Loras. When Lord Bolton's men give us the signal."

Robb was atop a small hillock that gave view of the castle, mounted along with his guard and Grey Wind. Loras and Robb both turned their gaze to the castle, where they suddenly saw a single flaming arrow emerge from one of the towers. Robb drew his sword and raised it skywards, shouting to his assemble men, "Charge!"

Robb and his guard rode forward, not overtaking the charging mass of soldiers deliberately as they neared the castle walls. _Gods if those aren't intimidating._ The main gate stood defende from above, but when the entered range of arrows, the defenders did not fire. Robb saw the tell-tale signs of his plan working, and pressed his soldiers forward. Before long they had brought a battering ram to the gates, while huge siege ladders were brought up to scale the walls. Robb did not enter arrow range, but saw the murder holes barely being utilized. _Good, Lord Bolton's men and the prisoners had begun the melee. _Before long the gates buckled from the force of the battering ram, and the main force of men entered the keep.

Robb looked at Dacey Mormont, and with a nod, the party began a charge into the gate. His men made way for the horsemen, allowing them to enter the fortress. It was clear as soon as they entered that the battle had become a rapid victory. The mercenaries had switched sides as soon as Bolton's men freed the prisoners, and now all that remained were the routed Lannisters, regrouping at the Kingspyre tower. The mounted party was slashing its way through Lannister remnants. Robb's sword slit the throat of a fleeing man in a clean stroke, red running down the length of the blade before he turned the point into the head of another, blood gushing over the steel blade. Then Robb felt his balance shift, and was sent tumbling to the ground. Moments passed before his guard dismounted and surrounded him, Dacey helping him onto his feet. A stray arrow had struck his horse, apparently. Grey Wind flanked Robb's unshielded side, and he screamed a warcry as he charged towards the tower.

His men arrived before he did, and the doors had been pried open by the time he arrived. They entered the tower, and found men being slain in a bloodbath as the Lannisters were overwhelmed. Robb dodged a number of scenes of dismemberment and battle before he began running up the stairs, his direwolf leading the way while his guard stayed on his tail. He was on the second floor of the tower when he found the leader of the Lannisters, Amory Lorch, running away from the battle, cowering in fear. "Surrender!" Robb ordered Lorch, who turned to face him. But before Lorch could respond, a massive blade protruded from his back, slicing into his heart. When Lorch's form fell, Robb saw the Mountain standing behind him, bloody sword ready. _He is a beast._

Robb held his shield to block his chest, but the Mountain was faster than he expected. The blade dented his shield with it's force, and it took what strength Robb could muster to resist the blow. Robb made a low stab with his blade, but the Mountain countered that too. He was going to make a massive blow on Robb's shoulder when Grey Wind's jaws struck his knees, forcing him to kneel. Robb tried to take advantage of the moment, making a stab for the mountains visor, but he simply raised his blade to parry the blow. The mountain roared in rage as he got to his feet, raising his sword. Robb tensed for another blow and realized too late he was trying to kill Grey Wind. The blade swung and cut into the wolf's hind leg.

Before the Mountain could finish off the wolf, Robb moved under his guard and launched into a furious series of attacks, not letting the mountain gain an inch. Loras suddenly appeared and made a solid blow into the mountains head, which knocked off his helmet. The mountain roared once more, and threw Robb and Loras off him with two tremendous blows of his sword. He turned back to the wolf, but noticed where Grey Wind once lay whimpering now stood another dire wolf entirely, defending it's kin. _Nymeria?_

The two direwolves tackled the mountain, ripping into his sword arm and left shin, jaws drawing blood from beneath the plate mail, sending the mountain flat into the ground. He struggled to get the wolves off, raising a mailed fist to try and strike Nymeria. Loras did not give him the chance. He cut off the Mountains head where it lay on the ground. Finally, the rush of the duel fading, he noticed the thunderous sound of cheering at the victory over the Lannisters. As soon as the battle was over, Nymeria ran out of the room and out to the woods once more. Loras smiled at him, "Your grace, we've taken the castle," Loras looked down at the mountain's decapitated form, "What shall we do with this one?"

Robb's lord voice filled him as he said, "Mount his head on a pike in front of the gate. Bury the body with the rest of them."

The two descended the stairs, seeing the tower now filled with blood and bodies, and found their way into the courtyard. As the light of noon hit them, a mighty cheer ran up from the crowd.

"The King in the North!"

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

Before anyone says "THE MOUNTAIN WOULD CRUSH ROBB!" first of all, I disagree, second of all, it took Robb, Loras and two direwolves to bring the man down. And also the Mountain in my story was still at Harrenhal because Tywin turned east to defend against Stannis and give Arya to Cersei's safekeeping. So yeah, I think I did my housekeeping fairly well. (And yes, for people counting, Arya still has one more name.)


	21. Tyrion IV

**Tyrion**

Tyrion awoke sore. He tried to move his arms before he remembered his binds. _Damned bandits. _They'd taken the group prisoner and almost killed them before they had time to divulge their reason of leaving the safety of his father's host. But they did divulge, and now they were waiting, Bronn on his left and Pod on his right, for whatever it was this "judgment" the brotherhood had planned for them.

As he came to realize his now familiar surroundings, he noticed two newcomers on a tree opposite his. _The hound and the woman from before._ Both were awake, but the Hound looked as if he didn't wish to be disturbed. The woman, on the other hand, was supremely alert. He noticed that no one in the group was gagged and their captors were not within eyesight. "Excuse me, my Lady?" Tyrion attempted.

She scowled at him, "What?"

"I was just wondering if I might inquire as to your name?" Tyrion tried, and failed, to smooth over his words.

"Brienne of Tarth." she replied sharply.

"Brienne of Tarth?" he mused, "I've never been to Tarth. I've heard it is quite lovely, though. The sapphire isle." _Brienne of Tarth? Where had he heard that before?_ "And tell me, my Lady, who is it you fight for?"

"What is it you, Imp?" she retorted bitterly.

"Not much," he ignored the insult, "I just wanted to know why you tried to kidnap the Stark girls." She didn't speak, so Tyrion continued, "I suppose you might've tried to kill them, but we've been on your trail for some time now, and I fear we may have managed to overshoot you. That is, before our mutual capture."

"Do you ever shut up?" she finally growled.

"A question that has plagued mankind since I first began babbling. I fear we won't know until someone cuts off my head and sees if it still curses."

Silence fell over the group again, and Tyrion, more to save himself from boredom, asked, "Do you serve Stannis, maybe?" she continued in silence, "It would make sense. Capture the Stark girls and use them as leverage to force the North and the Reach to bend knee to him. Marry them to some loyal supporters."

She spat at the thought as if the distaste was so great she couldn't bear it. "So not Stannis then?" _Brienne of Tarth. I swear I've heard that name before._ Then he remembered. "So it wasn't you who killed Renly, then." he smiled at her, trying to be good-humored. She made no such attempt.

"No." she spat.

"So then who do you serve?" he began to concentrate, "You don't serve the Baratheons, else you would have killed Renly. You don't serve the Lannisters, obviously. The Tyrells, perhaps?" he judged her expression carefully. "But they wouldn't want the Stark girls back for fear of their dear daughter's children losing influence. That leaves the Starks."

Her suddenly blank expression was all the confirmation he needed, "So you do serve the Starks. Interesting, but why would the Hound join you?"

"Why do you think, half-man?" the Hound suddenly growled.

"The only reason anyone serves my family: Gold." Tyrion realized.

Suddenly a hooded figure entered the clearing, surrounded by a number of bandits. He gave a quiet order, and the group was untied to the trees, their heads covered, and forced to march a ways. They eventually found themselves in an expansive cavern, in the center of which lay a massive fire and an assembled group of bandits. Tyrion remembered the Hound's fear of fire, and looked to see him struggling at the sight of so large a bonfire. While looking at him, he noticed the Stark girls, guarded but unbound, watching the group being brought to the fire.

The hooded man stood before the group, who were assembled in a semicircle around the great fire. He spoke in a gravelly voice, "You are all accused of attempted and successful kidnaping of Ladies Arya and Sansa Stark."

The hound looked at him, recognition on his face, "Beric Dondarrion?"

He grinned, his body scarred, "You, Sandor Clegane, have been accused of murder."

"I haven't killed anybody." replied the Hound, resolute.

"That may be. Arya Stark seems to believe otherwise." he replied grimly, "However, it is under her and her sister's insistence that you have been acquitted of the crime of kidnaping. You as well, Brienne of Tarth."

Beric turned to face Tyrion, "You have been accused of the kidnapping of Arya and Sansa Stark. However no one here was witness to the crime, so the Lord of Light shall decide your fate."

Tyrion was terrified, but made an effort to repress it, "You want me to fight in a trial by combat?"

The old warrior sniffed, "Or a champion. Whichever suits you."

Tyrion turned Bronn, who sighed, "As long as you keep paying me..." he muttered. He was untied and handed a sword. Beric Dondarrion knelt before the flames and said a prayer, while Tyrion watched the Stark girls and, after noticing the man next to them, Thoros of Myr.

When he turned back, the two men stood swords presented, and the battle began. The man's blade lit with fire, and the opponents clashed. Bronn ducked back towards the Hound, and the blade of Beric came down inches from Sandor's face. Bronn flicked his blade up, and from Tyrion's angle it looked as if the blade hit Sandor, but he saw instead it was a feint to get around Beric's guard. Beric's blade met the blow, and Bronn once more ducked towards the flames. Beric raised his sword again, but Bronn surprised him by throwing his sword towards his chest.

As Beric was distracted, Bronn tackled the man and threw him into the bonfire, setting him alight. The pyre exploded with the force, sending cinders and burning logs into the assembled crowd, threatening the lives of everyone assembled and setting many aflame. He rose out of the flames, infuriated, but Bronn was already moving. He ran behind Tyrion and Podrick, where Beric followed him. With a slash and dodge, he cut through both Tyrion's and Podrick's bindings while masking the action as a feint. _So that was why he ran behind Sandor._ Apparently some signal was given because at that moment Sandor and Brienne rose, attacking the bewildered guards behind them, stealing weapons from them before killing both.

Tyrion and Podrick too rose, and Tyrion found Arya and Sansa with his eyes. The two of them ran over to the Stark girls, who noticed them and ran away towards one side of the cavern, dodging flames that licked their heals. _If they're running there, that must be the exit of this cave._

Sandor and Brienne had joined Bronn in fighting off the bandits. They were running to follow Tyrion, who had by now managed to make his way to where an apparent narrowing of the cavern led to the exit. The chaos caused by Sandor and Brienne's efforts had left the exit unguarded.

He ran after them farther, now seeing sunlight dripping into the tunnels. As they found themselves in the middle of a forest, the Stark girls started running down the hill the cavern was evidently hidden in. Tyrion ran after them, and noticed that the other three warriors had managed to make their way past through the tunnel, much faster in movement than the other members of the party.

_Surprise is truly invaluable in battle._ Tyrion continued after the starks, and Brienne, Sandor and Bronn managed to overtake him, running into a hedge row that marked the edge of the woods. Tyrion and Pod went through next, and then they saw the devastation of the Riverlands once more. _A horrible thing for anyone to see, much less the young Stark girls._

He saw the Starks had been caught up with by Bronn and the other two warriors, and saw Bronn managed to get surrounded by the other two fighters. Tyrion arrived and quickly ordered, "While I'm certain this is a very important fight, we should keep going before they kill us."

Arya looked angrily, " Why should we let you follow us? Better just kill you here."

Tyrion sighed, "My Lady, while I'm certain your suspicions are justified, I assure you that my want for the safety of the Stark girls is not greater than my want of the safety of myself. Now, please, can we just run?"

Brienne was going to counter when there was a shout from the woods. "We need to go, now." growled the Hound, which everyone in the party agreed to.

They could see Harrenhal's shadow in the distance, and directly in front of them lay a small hamlet, which the party began running towards for safety. They found themselves inside the aforementioned hamlet before long, and the group stopped running behind a building. "Where are we going to go?" asked Tyrion between breaths. Before anyone could find it in themselves to speak, the heard another voice. "Drop your weapons." it commanded. Tyrion turned to see a tall man with mounted on a horse, flanked by a dozen other horsemen. _How hadn't we noticed them?_

As Bronn, Brienne and Sandor dropped their weapons, Tyrion looked at the man on horseback. He was no lord, that was certain. He had the arms of Randyll Tarly on his cuirass, but he was far too young to be one of the men of his court. _A common soldier then, or a low ranking knight._ "Who are you?" he asked Sandor.

"Brienne of Tarth," answered Brienne, "I serve Catelyn Stark. These are her daughters, Arya and Sansa Stark. We are trying to get to Riverrun."

The man frowned, and lowered his sword, "Bring them to the fortress." He ordered his men, some of whom dismounted to allow them to ride. "Wait." He said, looking at Tyrion, "Who is he?"

Brienne paused a second, then said, "My friend, Garth Flowers. He was an aide to my father when I was growing up."

The man frowned, and turned to his men, ordering seven of them to dismount so the travelers may mount in their stead. The group then began riding towards the silhouette of Harrenhal. Tyrion took the chance to ride next to Brienne, whispering to her, "Why did you do that?"

Brienne muttered back, "Lannisters aren't the only ones who pay their debts."

After a while she asked, "Why aren't you running away? You'll be killed if the Starks find out who you are."

"I'll be killed if I go back to my family. My sister has tried twice, and my father is only looking for an excuse. At least this way I can see if the Starks will spare me.."

Brienne nodded in acknowledgment, "Then I hope you have a plan, or some evidence that you won't betray them."

He chuckled. _I wish I did._ Then he faced Brienne once more, and let out a heartfelt "Thank you."

But Brienne's focus wasn't on him. She was staring at Sandor, who in turn had his gaze firmly fixed on the top of the walls. There the decapitated head of Gregor Clegane, the mountain that rides, stood on a pike, skin receding, eyes seeming popping out of their sockets, dried blood staining the wooden shaft red, contrasting with the top of the Kingspyre tower, above which the Direwolf Banner floated gracefully in the breeze.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

I'm glad this bit is done. It wasn't easy to write. For how Bronn, Sandor and Brienne managed to leave despite being surrounded by warriors, you have to remember they are three of the greatest warriors in the Riverlands, and Bronn gave them the element of surprise. The explosion of flame the bonfire caused was enough to get all the people fearing for their own lives rather than the lives of the group. A bit Deus ex Machina, sure, but I think it works. Also, this story has been too damn happy so far, I'll have to fix that.

Jon, Robb, Daenerys? Who knows!

Incognito.15: She never got the chance, she was captured and held under constant watch long before she could say the name to Jaqen. To be honest, most of this story comes from a logical progression to me. Like, this happens so this happens as a result which in turn causes this kind of thing. So I don't have some plan for her to use her last name. We'll see if she thinks of something.

Danceegirl92: I think so, given the nature of the death.

Jon Stark 4evah: If your username is any indication, I would guess you like the adoption idea. That is his plan, certainly.

Quindecim: Thanks! I thought this was a good way to kill him off. I wasn't going to at first for fear of the "Everyone lives!" trope, but I couldn't figure out how he would make it. As to Jaqen's whereabouts, I'll only say this: he has already been in the story.


	22. Jon II

**Jon**

Jon found Maester Aemon in his normal spot in the library. The sun was fading from the sky, and left many hued light pouring into the room. He hadn't spoken to him since he arrived, he had been far too busy readying his men for combat. _My men? It's still odd being a prince._ He was still trying to get used to the title.

"Maester Aemon" he greeted the blind man.

"Is that you Jon?" the old blind man's permanently blank stare looked into the void, "Let me touch your face."

Jon knelt before the man, and allowed him to feel his features, which the old man grinned at, "A sight for sore eyes," he snickered, "metaphorically speaking." _I didn't know the old man for making japes._

"Maester Aemon, there's to be a wildling army at the wall by the end of the day."

"Aye, there will. And I will stay here, and hope that I do not perish."

"After the battle there will be the choosing of the new Lord Commander." Jon continued, "Janos Slynt will be that commander, if he survives."

"What's your point, boy?" demanded the old man.

"Without a Lord Commander named, there must be someone to lead the rangers still here." Jon explained, "The men respect your opinion."

The old man smiled once more, "They did not respect my opinion so much as to let you choose yourself weather to forsake your vows, and they will not respect my opinion now. No, your grace," he continued, "The men will let whoever proves themselves lead. If they believe that man to be Janos Slynt, then he shall be Lord Commander."

Jon lowered his head at the man's wisdom, "Thank you maester."

"Jon, do you remember what I told you about when a man must choose between honor and love?"

Jon frowned, "It would seem my choice has been made for me."

"No, it has not." Aemon replied, "You can choose still."

Jon thought on it for a moment, and sighed deeply, "My choice has been made."

To his surprise, the maester smiled, "Very good. Now go, you have a battle to win."

_Yes, but I hope it is not today._ Jon took his leave of the maester, making his way through the long corridors of the castle. Before long he found himself back in the Lord Commander's chambers, which he had been occupying as the highest lord present. He found Lord Karstark sitting ready in armor. "The wildling's will be here within the day." he said bluntly.

"Aye," replied Jon, "they will."

"Do you really think this plan of yours will work?"

"No," Jon admitted, "Do you really trust this captain of yours?"

"With my life," Lord Karstark declared, "He was the master at arms of Karhold for many years. He will pull through."

Jon nodded, and Lord Karstark continued, "After this battle, where shall you lead us?"

"Winterfell," he declared, "Then to destroy the Ironborn."

"Good." agreed Karstark grimly, "we may even make it to Riverrun in time for your brother's wedding."

"Not before the North is free." replied Jon.

Lord Rickard gave a smile, "A fine wedding gift." He sighed, "When the road is safe, I shall send my daughter to travel to Riverrun. I need a representative at the wedding, and with my sons dead..." he cut off, shook his head, then continued, "She'll be safer there, anyway."

Jon nodded, "I won't let anything happen to you or yours, Lord Karstark." His hand went to the hilt of Longclaw, "First we must survive this battle."

A knock came on the door, then opened to reveal Sam. "My Lords, the wildlings." he said panicked, "They're here." he finished quickly.

Lord Karstark looked grim, "Then it is time."

They hurried about their business, ensuring the men of the Night's watch were ready on the Wall, and that the remaining men in Castle Black had been ready to defend from the other side, if need be. The Lannister prisoners grumbled throughout the last week's preparations, but now they were side by side with their brothers, both groups of men terrified at the battle to come.

Before long, he had mounted with four karstark riders as guards, one of whom carried the Karstark banner, and another who carried a new banner. The stewards had worked on it overnight, and while it was rushed, it did the job, or so Jon thought. It was his banner, a black background with a white direwolf whose eyes were red, center. _We must impress Mance Rayder._

The portcullis under the wall shuddered open, and the small group rode under and forward into the plain beyond. They rode forward until they could see the assembled wildling host in the treeline, many held arrow trained at his head, but they did not fire. _Mance wants to hear what we have to say._

They entered the forest, the men around him wide eyed at the sight of the giants which surrounded Mance's tent. In front stood the man himself, smiling at the sight of the riders. The group dismounted and Mance laughed, "Banners, Jon Snow? I thought the men of the Night's Watch forswore any titles."

"Aye, they do. But I am no man of the Night's Watch, as you should know."

Mance's smile dimmed as he looked at the black banner, "Flying your father's banner Jon Snow? You seem to have forgotten the colors."

"Those are my colors, Mance. I am here to discuss terms."

Mance laughed cooly, "On whose authority? You are no brother of the Night's Watch."

"No," Jon agreed, "I am the prince and heir to the North. I negotiate on my brother's authority, and my own."

Mance's voice went icy, "Then come in, and let's discuss."

Jon entered the tent with one guard, the other two remaining mounted outside. The King Beyond the Wall sat on a small chair, and motioned for Jon to join him. "Before we discuss terms, what happened to the girl who captured you? What was her name?" he asked before answering himself, "Ygritte?"

Jon frowned at the memory, "Ygritte died to a raid while we were traveling to Castle Black. No one survived."

"No one, except for you?" asked Mance, "You know she loved you." Jon refused to give any more tears, and only nodded. "I'm sorry lad." he said sympathetically.

Jon looked him in the eye, "Are you ready to hear the terms?"

Mance laughed to himself, "Get right to the point, eh? Ah, to be young again. What are your terms?"

Jon frowned at the implication, but continued, "We will let you through the wall, so you can settle the lands of the North."

"I doubt you'll just let us through."

"Aye, you must swear fealty to my brother as King in the North." Jon paused, "And your army must help us free the lands from the invaders who have attacked us there."

Mance shook his head, "The free folk will never bend knee to some southern king, much less fight for them."

"The men of the Night's Watch have agreed to let you settle in the New Gift, without need of fealty" Jon replied, "but they still require your army to fight the Ironborn."

Mance chuckled, "I can't force them to agree to that." he shook his head, "They'll only follow strength."

Jon rose, looking frustrated, loudly exclaiming "Then it appears we have reached an impasse?"

"Aye," Mance replied grimly, "So there will be a battle after all"

"So there will."

Suddenly there was a commotion from outside, and a wildling man entered, looking frantic, "Mance, they're attacking us from behind!"

"What?" he roared in response. Mance looked at Jon, but he had already had his sword in his hand, "You would betray your honor, Snow?"

Jon rose his blade to Mance's neck. "I did not ride under a peace banner, Mance. I accepted no bread nor wine. This broke no codes of honor," he explained.

Mance growled, "No, it would appear it wouldn't."

The captain from before entered the tent, bloody sword in hand. "Your grace," he spoke to Jon, "We've got them."

"Do you surrender, Mance Rayder?" Jon asked, sword still to his neck.

Mance looked at him, face full of fury, "Yes."

"You," Jon told the wildling messenger, "tell the others Mance surrendered."

The wildling begrudgingly did as he was group exited the tent, and saw the cavalry attack had managed to encircle the army well, most of which was running, some towards the wall, some away. All were being captured and tied, slowly. Mance looked at Jon, "This was dishonorable, Jon Snow."

"Jon Stark," corrected Jon, for the first time.

Mance spat at his feet, "Piss on your name. I accuse you of breaking the laws of hospitality, and demand trial by combat."

"You've no right to demand anything." the captain of the horseman barked, whose name, Jon learned, was Ser Braith Wint.

"No," Jon stopped him, "You want me to fight you, Mance Rayder?"

Mance grimaced, replying "If I am to die, I might as well become a legend."

_If he dies in front of the wildlings, they'll anger and fight. If I die, he will simply free them and lay siege to the castle once more._

"Very well then Mance Rayder, you want a trial by combat, you will have it." he turned to one of his escorts, "Take him to the tunnel."

By the time the two arrived in front of the gate to Castle Black, the wildling army had begun to be captured or rou entirely, many being brought, hands bound, towards the gate of the castle. Several thousand free folk stared at the two men, standing in front one another.

Mance was given a sword, and Jon drew Longclaw, and the duel began. Mance was faster than he had appeared, and Jon was quick to understand that he was fighting for his life. Mance fought lower than he was used to, but he never gave up his guard. Jon eventually got Mance's blade to catch on his hilt, allowing him to twist the blade into a solid pommel hit. Mance was thrown back from the blow, and Jon tried to close the distance. Mance revealed his feint, closing the distance first, his sword low. Jon tried to move his blade to parry the blade when a howling came from behind him. Mance looked up for a second, which was all Jon needed to let Longclaw's point entrench itself in The King Beyond the Wall's heart.

A collective gasp came from the free folk, but a cheer from the top of the wall and the Karstark army drowned out any complaints or lamentations they might be having. Jon turned to Ser Braith, "Burn the bodies. Including his. Go find any of the surviving wildlings, capture them, and bring them to Castle Black."

Ser braith gave a "Yes, your grace." and Jon looked around and smiled at what had distracted Mance. Ghost ran up to allow Jon to pet his head.

Jon and his guard mounted and rode through the tunnel, ghost close behind. When they reached the other side, Lord Karstark stood in the center of the yard, smiling at the sight of the approaching prince. He began a cheer which his small small contingent of remaining Karstarks took up immediately. Soon the other men of the night's watch joined, eventually even the former Lannister men. Before long Jon made out what they were saying.

"White Wolf!"

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

So there. For possible sources of errata here, the reason I kept the Mance v Jon fight short was I was bored with writing fight scenes, and I thought they were getting repetitive. Also Jon could school Mance. Like, easily. For why the wildlings gave up so easily, I modeled it after the wildlings who fought Stannis, and they seemed to give up easily as well. For how the Karstarks so easily smashed the Wildlings, same way Stannis did it: a several thousand man charge of cavalry took care of their forces quickly. Oh and what Stannis and Tywin are up to will be revealed soon. I'm not going to say next chapter, but soon. I think that's it, but feel free to call out my bs in the reviews.

To Jajacob: I don't plan on killing anyone in particular yet, but rest assured a Stark will probably die at some point. They are in frequent danger. Also, no love for Stannis the Mannis

To Aiur: I somehow knew this one was coming up. Okay so this was going to start as a Arya chapter, but she didn't have a great view of things. Then it was going to be a Brienne chapter, but she was in the middle of the melee and frankly writing another fight would start to get repetitive. So it was a Tyrion chapter, and a lot of crucial details of this scene fell off the end. Like, a lot. So here's why Bronn trusted Brienne and Sandor: because he knew that Sandor wouldn't kill him after he had freed him, and that Brienne would follow Sandor. He knew he probably couldn't beat Beric, given that Sandor was in awe of him, and that if he lost he would be both dead and unpaid. It was a risk, sure, but Bronn is a risk taking character. As for why Arya and Sansa ran, I _very _deliberately didn't put Harwin in the cave during the trial. He's just supposed to be out, making mischief, stealing things, what have you, during this scene. This made them have no reason to trust the brotherhood, more at their mercy than anything. When Tyrion and Pod charged them, they panicked and ran. The reason this wasn't communicated well is probably that I'm just a rubbish writer. I might try to go back and fix them, if I have the time.


	23. Margaery III

**Margaery**

The endless wedding planning was boring Margaery. Her grandmother's insistence on every detail was a fact which she knew well was to create an elaborate show for her father, but that didn't make her like it.

She had taken to wandering through the area around the sept. It was said that Minisa Whent had spent hours a day seeing to the gardens there, which flowed like a mighty river of foliage and flowers to the godswood which sprang around the slender heart tree. Margaery enjoyed the godswood as well, but wandered it less as the shade from the redwoods made her cold. _I do hope I get used to the cold before I go north._

That was one thing she hadn't been looking forward to about the wedding: being married. It wasn't that Rob was a bad man, he was fine. Better than most, even. But, much as Margaery didn't want to admit it to herself, though she would gladly admit it to others if it would be advantageous to her, there was still a part of her who dreamed of the romance in songs. Robb had many of the right attributes. He was a brave and noble warrior, one who rode in armor that, while didn't quite shine, certainly made him look the part the dashing knight. Many a noble maiden in the riverlands and the north (and probably the Reach as well) had swooned over the chance to merely be in sight of him, let alone the chance to marry him. _But he was so cold._

That night where he accepted the marriage proposal was everything Margaery had hoped it wouldn't be. Formal, customary, by-the-book and in every conceivable way what she should have expected. _What did I expect?_

The question vexed her as she wandered the gardens some in the mid-morning sun. She would return to the Lady's solar soon for lunch, but for now she would enjoy the beauty of the flowers around the gardens. She was wearing an informal red dress, which she purchased in the small town across the Tumblestone. The small folk there had grown to love her as much as they loved Robb, and so her frequents there had become sunny experiences. But even that brought her thoughts back to her impending marriage.

Apparently she had become transfixed on one particularly striking blue flower, because when she heard Lady Catelyn's voice behind her, she heard "Those are winter roses."

Margaery snapped out of her thought, turned her frown to a smile, and said, "They are very lovely."

Lady Catelyn returned her smile, "They grown well in the glass gardens of Winterfell, but it's rare to see them this far south. My husband's brother, Brandon, brought them here when we were to be wed."

"A beautiful betrothal gift." replied Margaery with mock glee.

Catelyn's smile thinned a little at that, "I didn't love Brandon. I was infatuated with him, to be sure. But I never loved him." Margaery was stunned by the sudden confession, but Catelyn continued, "He died just before we were to be married, and I was whisked away to marry his younger brother." she mused, still looking at the blue rose, "Eddard was cold, even then. They called him the quiet wolf, because he barely ever spoke."

Margaery decided she must say something, "I have heard that he was a very honorable man."

Catelyn smiled at the comment, "Yes. An honorable fool, your grandmother called him? Don't worry, child, he has been called far worse." she consoled, "I didn't love him either. He was as cold as the North itself. Later, after we were married, he brought me home a bastard, for all my efforts to love him." tears came to her face, but she blinked them back, "But, in time, I did grow to love him."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Margaery asked softly, her voice sounding like the wind through leaves of the godswood.

Catelyn regained her composure, "Because for all your grandmother's age and experience she lacks the wisdom that comes from a happy marriage. And because I want for my son to be happy, and you to be happy with him."

Margaery was awestruck with this sudden tenderness. Catelyn Stark had never been anything more than as kind a goodmother-to-be was expected to be. Her advice was unexpected, to say the least. _And yet..._ Margaery couldn't help but feel moved by this confession, and she was starting to understand what her brothers saw in this woman. After a long while, Margaery whispered, "Thank you." she looked at Catelyn, "I hope we can be happy, someday."

Catelyn brought her into a motherly embrace. "You will be. I promise." she chided tenderly.

After their little encounter, Margaery retired to her chambers, mind lost on Catelyn Stark. She remembered her brother's smile when the castle received the news of the capture of Harrenhal and rescue of Arya and Sansa. She wondered if she would have been smiling with him had she been already married to Robb, if they had been family in truth. Regardless, her opinions on marriage and Robb Stark seemed to be changing for the good. She smiled to herself wondering if perhaps she could have it all ways, married to a king and love one as well, when a servant came to gather her for the meal.

She made her way to the solar and found herself sitting at a familiar table with her grandmother, Lady Stark, and her brother. Lady Olenna had been going on about some matter involving the maiden's gown. She nearly unconsciously agreed to a grey cloak with a golden flower, or maybe it was a green cloak with a grey wolf. Then a servant with two letters arrived, handing them both to Willas.

Willas frowned, "A message from the wall?" he looked at Catelyn, who remained expressionless. "Prince Jon Stark of the North has defeated Mance Rayner, The King Beyond the Wall, in single combat."

Catelyn frowned, "Why did he fight against the wildlings? That is not his fight."

Willas looked up, "Apparently he disagreed. He routed the wildlings, and after killing their leader, has apparently allowed them to settle the New Gift if they will fight for him and their leaders kneel to the King in the North."

Catelyn growled, "He had no right to let savages settle our land."

Willas looked innocently, as always trying to see the best in the world, "But they're not settling your lands, my Lady. The new gift belongs to the men of the Night's Watch."

"It still settles dangerous people on our border without the direct consent of the King," Catelyn snapped back, "What does he do now?"

Willas read the rest of the letter, "He has gathered a force of eight thousand Karstark men and another ten thousand Wildlings and leads an army to free the North from the Ironborn." he paused to read more, "The men have been calling him the White Wolf of the North."

Olenna grumbled, "I still think it was a foolish thing to adopt the boy. Has Robb forgotten the Blackfyres?"

Catelyn sighed, "No, he has not. But what choice does he have? The North needs an heir, for everyone's sake." She had come to terms with the decision long ago.

"Very well. But if the boy is ever a danger to my granddaughters children, then the Reach shall march once more."

Willas cut in, "As well we should. But I think we'd best address the matter brought up in the other letter."

Margaery asked, "What is the matter?"

"Stannis has lost King's Landing. He has retreated with most of his army back to the Stormlands."

Catelyn nearly spat out her wine, "How?" she blurted out.

"Apparently Tywin Lannister played a rouse on him. Cut him off when his army went to march on Rosby, where Tywin was stationed. Regardless, the city is once more in the hands of the Lannisters." Willas finished.

_That does change the game._ Stannis was never a particularly powerful leader in this war, but with the loss of King's Landing he's lost all that he's gained. Well, save Renly's armies.

Margaery interrupted, "We should send word to Harrenhal."

Catelyn agreed, "Yes, we should. Robb is still at the fortress, I believe. But what he plans to do now is anyone's guess. Best leave the strategy to him."

Willas gave a terrific smile, "I agree. On a happier topic, the wedding is all but ready, and we've gotten everything prepared in that regard. Everything save one crucial detail."

"And that is?" asked Margaery.

"You crown, sweet sister." he pulled out a paper roll, revealing a picture of Robb's unmistakable crown, "I think we can agree that it should be suitably different from your betrothed. It seems a queen's crown should be a tad more... domestic?"

Olenna laughed at that, "Do you think us women are less battle-ready than men?" Willas struggled to respond, but Olenna saved him the embarrassment, "No, child, I understand your meaning. We should create a more, shall we say, feminine crown."

Catelyn frowned. _Had we really not planned a crown? _They certainly had planned a crown_ing, _"Perhaps it would be best if we found some other design entirely?"

Wills smiled, "I gree, and found some interesting ideas," he pulled out three other rolls of paper.

"Willas, have you been so bored as to worry about some gold that will sit on my head?" Margaery japed.

Willas laughed at that, "I can't very well go riding all day, now can I? Besides, grandmother asked me to work on it." _She neglected to mention me._

Catelyn looked somewhat disturbed that Olenna would keep such work from her, but didn't seem to mind enough to make a fuss about it, "And what have you come up with Willas?" she smiled at him.

Willas continued with frivolity, "Well here are the designs the smith and I thought of, Lady Stark. We thought it best if they were made of rose gold instead of iron. I believe we have some stored away somewhere that we can use for this purpose."

Margaery looked at the designs. _They were beautiful._ All of them kept to a ring of gold with rose adorning the center, but that's where the similarities stopped. The first was a smaller crown, which had two direwolf heads howling at the central rose, and had a number of emeralds adorning the rim. The second was a huge crown, which rose to the top of the wearer's head. It had a number of spires running out of the sides, which came to a central circle. The sides were decorated with scenes of wolves in gardens. The third, however, caught her eye. It was small, like the first one, but it circled the head a number of times, looking like a vine. Small roses emerged from the vines, the largest in the center, like the other crowns. The vines had, entwined in them, a number of emeralds, for her house. The whole thing was encased in an iron cage, with spires rising from several points of the crown, similar to Robb's. These spires had, on all of them, direwolves etched in them, howling at the sky.

Margaery's gaze quickly turned back to Willas, who looked at her proudly. "They're lovely." she told him, before turning to her grandmother, "I believe this one," pointing to the third design, "Is the best one."

Catelyn smiled, "I agree. Willas, can you have that one made?"

He nodded, "I think so. We have another moon until the wedding and all the materials are already here, so I think it can be done."

"Thank you," Catelyn beamed at him, and Margaery suddenly felt a longing for her approval as well.

The group eventually got up to leave the solar, when yet another messenger arrived, "Lady Catelyn," he said, which the woman nodded to acknowledge. The servant smiled as he moved to reveal two young woman, "May I present Ladies Sansa and Arya Stark."

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

I was rereading some of Margaery's sections and she was a little more emotional than I remember. I didn't want to ruin her character's badassitude, (Is that a word?) but I really wanted to make her have some sort of emotional throughline. And yes I'm keeping Catelyn as the mother-to-all type.

Daenerys is next, then probably Jon, then I think we get to the wedding.

to Jean d'Arc: Thank you for all the reviewing you do do. As for similarities to ASOIAF, I really can't replicate GRRM's style as well as I would like, so I was worried it would start to be just a sort of lackluster parody. So I tried to write in my own voice, and I think for the most part it worked. Also, yes, Jon probably wouldn't do such a dishonorable thing, but he had to for the story to work in ASOS so I get to use the same excuse :D

to Guest: Given that that chapter was the longest one I've written yet, I'm going to assume you either loved it so much you couldn't believe it was over (haha *sigh*) or that you're referring to the story itself. In the case of the former, aw shucks, in the case of the later, I'm a very plainspoken person in real life so long form writing doesn't come easily to me. I'm trying my best.

to Parzival vi Britannia: There's a lot of Robb love. If he dies, people'll get reallllllllll mad.


	24. Daenerys I

**Daenerys**

Meereen was awash with the golden light of sunset. Daenerys looked over her city frowning, Jorah Mormont trying to council her. "We need to sail now if we are to take King's Landing."

"I won't abandon my people to the slavers." she snapped.

"But you'll abandon your people to the Baratheons?" he snapped back

Daenerys had assumed her victory would be the end of the issues of slavers. But if rumors were to be believed, the Yunkish had quickly consolidated after her leaving, and were preparing for another invasion. "Ser Barristan, you've not spoken on the events at King's Landing."

"Your grace, I admit it troubles me. Stannis is not a man to underestimate on the battlefield. While Tywin Lannister is equally skilled, it seems unlikely that Stannis would give the city so easily to his enemies." Ser Barristan explained.

"What do we know of the battle?" asked Jorah

"Less than I would like. We know that the two commanders had been wrestling over the Crownlands for months now, ever since the Battle of the Blackwater. After that battle, Stannis' forces swelled with supporters from around the Crownlands, but they left as quickly as they came when it became questionable weather it was Joffrey or Stannis who would ultimately win the Iron Throne. As for the battle itself, we know Stannis left a small garrison at King's Landing and tried to force a fight, which Tywin used to cut him off and retake the city."

Daenerys sat on a small bench on the terrace, "What of the yunkish?"

Barristan swallowed, "Only rumors, your grace. It seems like they've began to take the city's populace once more and are resupplying for war. But we can't be certain."

Jorah looked annoyed at Barristan, "We cannot hold Meereen forever, your grace. They've too many soldiers and too much money."

Barristan grimaced, "Stannis is planning something, your grace, I'm certain of it. He was never one to give up so easily."

"So now is the perfect time to strike." retorted Jorah.

Daenerys continued to think on the matter before asking, "Ser Jorah, why is it you are suddenly so adamant about us going to Westeros."

Jorah grinded his teeth, "I received a raven."

"From who?" Daenerys looked angrily. His betrayal was not easily forgotten, neither was it entirely forgiven, despite his pleads for it to be.

"The Spider." he answered dumbly, "I stopped sending him information on you as I've told you, but he sent me the message trying to contact you. He told me that Stannis was weak now, and that if we would strike, we would win. He said that the Starks have nearly won their war..."

"After all that I've done, you still betray me?!" she spat

"No _khaleesi_!" he defended himself, "I would never. He sent me the message unexpectedly."

"Your grace," interrupted Ser Barristan, "I received the same message. I was going to tell you, but Ser Jorah beat me to the effort."

Daenerys calmed somewhat at that reassurance, "Very well then. What is this about the Usurper's dogs?"

Jorah swallowed, "Robb Stark is betrothed to Margaery Tyrell, they've united three of the realms between them. The north has been invaded by the ironborn, but Robb's adopted brother and heir seems to be intent on fighting them."

"Then we should wait for them to destroy each other. Even if they survive the war, they will be weakened." Daenerys read Barriston's face, "You seem unsettled, ser Barristan."

He hesitated, then decided, "Eddard Stark was an honorable man, your grace. A good man. I do not believe we should make ourselves the enemies of the North unless we must."

Daenerys looked furious, "You defend the Usurper's dog?"

"He was not the one who ordered the murder of the babes, you grace. His son may see reason and kneel before you, as his ancestor did." he replied.

Daenerys was displeased with both his councilors, but knew they both meant well. "How would we leave this city? We have not nearly enough ships."

Jorah nodded, "Aye, _khaleesi, _but we have enough to take a small contingent of men, say a few thousand. You could leave the rest here to hold the city."

"A few thousand men is not enough to take the seven kingdoms." replied Daenerys,

"No, but if you make allies..." Jorah continued

"Who do you suggest I ally with? the North?" she spat.

"Your grace," cut in Barristan, "You would do well to travel to Dorne. Prince Doran supported the Targaryens in the last war, and he's not forgotten what happened to his sister."

Daenerys fumed. She wanted to scream at her own indecision and that neither of her advisors cared for the people of Meereen, but Barristan interrupted the thought, "Your grace, do you remember what I told you about your father?"

Daenerys thought on it for a second before replying, "Yes."

"I never told you about your grandfather, Jaehaerys. He reigned for only three years. He wasn't meant to inherit, but his brother renounced his inheritance to marry for love, so inherit he did. He was the one who ended the War of the Ninepenny Kings, and it was he who I began my service in the Kingsguard for. He was a great man, one who undid the damage of his father, but a sickly one who died shortly after he began his reign. I swore to serve his son, for his sake, and I sat by and watched as Aerys was consumed with madness. I sat and I did nothing." he looked at her face which was in a flux of emotion, "I will not do the same for you, my Queen."

Daenerys sat motionless for a long while before saying, "Then what will you do, Ser Barristan?"

"I will tell you that you must sail to Westeros now if you wish to reclaim your birthright." he replied.

Daenerys frowned, but before she could reply, a servant appeared in the door. "There is a man here to see you."

She went down to greet the man, a commoner as it turned out. He was in tears about a burnt body, and after she heard what he had to say, she too nearly cried. _How could my dragons kill an innocent child? How can I let them still run free?_

She remained in her throne room after the man had left amid reassurances and sympathies. Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah flanked her, and finally she said, "I cannot allow my children to harm these people any longer. I cannot sit by and watch these people suffer."

"What will you do, _khaleesi_?"

She had made up her mind, "I will take them away from here."

Ser Barristan asked, "Where will you take them."

"With us," she answered, as she rose, "to Westeros."

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

Cannon shmanon. Alright but seriously, I know there's _a lot _wrong with this section. Ser Jorah's presence, for one. The spiders ability to contact them from so far away so quickly. Jorah's snark towards Daenerys, I'm sure I'm missing a few, but this will have to do. Also for the lack of ships: in the books many of the merchant ships and so on left after Dany took the city. For why Jorah wants Dany to leave, it's because he truly wants to return home on some level, though he would never admit it. For why Barristan Selmy defends Ned, they seemed (at least to me) to have genuine mutual respect for each other.

to Aiur: I'm not certain why I'm writing this, given that you've decided to no longer read it, but I'll just chalk it up to other people reading reviews, wanting answers to the points you've laid out here.

For one, I am genuinely sad to see you go. I really liked being called out on the bullshit of the fic, so it's been very valuable having you as reader. You will be missed.

However, for the reasons you've described, I disagree that I diverged from the canon.

First of all, you are entirely correct about Stannis not giving up King's Landing for some prisoners. You have to remember, there's been a month and a half since the Blackwater and Tywin has had an army harassing him the entire time. True it's not exactly a siege, but it has many of the side effects of one (starvation, lack of money). He needed to defeat Tywin to allow the city supply. And don't assume that he merely allowed Tywin to win or didn't see his ploy. Stannis is crafty, and, as Barristan said above, he may have something planned.

As for Catelyn not liking the crown choices listed, this was partly my fault. I wanted the third one to seem vaguely northern, but regardless, she didn't like the crown designs. This was my attempt at subtlety, showing that Catelyn's mothering instinct towards Wills, who reminds her of her deceased son Bran, getting in the way of her judgment. I thought that spelling it out was giving Margaery a better ability to judge people than she really would have. She hasn't been a mother, s she probably wouldn't pick up on that nuance.

For lord Karstark and the battle for Castle Black, again, he had a month and a half to prepare. Plenty of time for Karstark's cavalry to hide in nearby villages or the like, while laying low. As for the size of his force, when Karstark leaves Robb's army it's said that he's lost half his force. Robb had about 18,000 men beforehand, so 8,000 seems a reasonable number. And even if you disagree with that idea, remember Robb dispatched a force roughly the size of the Tyrell force that was added to his army, which was about 12,000 men strong. Stannis had a force about 1,500 men strong, which mean if Lord Karstark's men traveled north along the wall and rappelled down it before the battle began, which is what they were meant to have done in this scenario, they could have easily deployed a force of 8,000 men in the month they had to prepare for the battle. As for composition, I admit, I stretched a bit here, but I don't imagine it unreasonable for the cavalry to foot composition of the Karstark contingent to be roughly 1/8, even if they are light cavalry. Obviously they couldn't rappel down the wall, so it makes sense if they were to ride in small groups under the cover of darkness near the wall to some distant gathering point without being spotted. Mance's scouts would be a problem sure, but there are plenty of ways to hide oneself from scouts, especially in small parties. I was going to include this information in a later conversation, and I probably still will, so I'll leave this for people who really just can't wait till then.

Lastly, Berric Dondarrion is a scarred mess at this point. It's doubtful Arya and Sansa would still think him to be him, but given they saw him thrown into flames and they were being charged by two people they thought to be enemies, I still think it is logical for both of them to have run away. I'll definitely address these complaints in a later conversation, and I regret not writing this scene from Arya's perspective. Regardless, I don't think this is such a sticking issue as Arya and Sansa both have not always made cool, logical decisions.

I hope this has addressed your complaints, but given that you won't read this, I hope whoever _does _read this at least finds it... compelling?

All the best to you.


	25. Jon III

**Jon**

War had come easily to him. At first, Jon had worried that the bastard of Bolton would not listen to his brother's orders and sally to attack beyond the lands of the Dreadfort, but no such event happened. Apparently his own father had given orders, ones he was far more apt to follow.

Lord Karstark laughed at his constant surprise of his own abilities, saying he should of known after Castle Black. Jon had chalked that much up to luck, having an extra month to send troops far enough away to climb down the wall and prepare to ambush the enemy was a miracle by his count. But Rickard just laughed that off, telling him miracles had nothing to do with it.

He was equally lucky that the Wildlings were willing to fight for him. True, most weren't, but enough that he could justify allowing them to settle the lands of the New Gift, mostly because of the Tormund Giantsbane's decision to join him. The Wildlings who could follow him after that, did, as well as a handful of other tribes and a half dozen giants. Tormund had gotten on well with Karstark, and together the two men of the North were a merry and vicious pair.

Jon sat in the Lord's Chambers of the fortress of Torrhen's square, staring at a map of the North, having just reclaimed it from the Ironborn. It had seemed so easy to him. The Ironborn made the mistake of attacking too far inland, and his Wildlings moved faster than them. He simply surrounded their army, then closed the fist. Theon Greyjoy still held Winterfell, but that wouldn't last long now. His sister was apparently moving from Deepwood Motte to reinforce him, and Victarion Greyjoy was sitting tight in Moat Cailin. After the victory, the Wildlings had respected him far more. They still wanted nothing to do with "kneelers," but they fought harder now, like they once did for Mance Rayder.

Lord Karstark wasn't there anymore, he had sent him with what was left of the cavalry to attack Winterfell. Bolton's bastard would accompany send his force from the other direction, and he would give them another Torrhen's Square.

Jon's eyes narrowed as he waited. They were only to spend the day there, to resupply before he marched south to fight off Victorian's forces and reclaim the Neck. That would be the end of it.

Jon wanted to have lead the attack to reclaim Winterfell himself, but he knew if he did he would have to lead the Wildlings there as well, which would slow him down enough that the Ironborn could figure out the trap and run from the field. He couldn't trust the wild men not to pillage his lands if he wasn't there to stop them. Lord Karstark chafed at the opportunity, he wanted to bring back Theon's head for the King in the North. Jon knew it was a way of avenging his lost sons, but he allowed him to lead the attack regardless. _If this will give him peace, so be it._

Jon's eyes finally shut and he entered a deep sleep. He was awoken by one of the surviving Tallhart servants, who gave him a light meal from what remained of the food stores. He finally made his way to the keep itself, where the remaining Karstark men who didn't ride with their lord, some seven thousand of them, were getting ready. The Wildling host insisted on camping outside the keep. They didn't want to live like kneelers, apparently.

Tormund Giantsbane and Ser Braith were awaiting him. "Ser Braith, are we ready to march?' he asked in a breath.

"Aye, my Lord." the man replied.

"Then we go south, to Motte Cailin." Jon ordered before mounting. Ghost appeared from his night's hunt in the forest and guarded the Prince's side.

A week later the army was well into the marshes of the Neck. He had sent a messenger to try to rouse Lord Howland Reed, but he wasn't holding out hope. The Crannogman had had enough grief not to ride to his aid. Regardless, he knew this was to be his hardest fight yet. The Wildlings had been wary to enter the marshes, and even more wary to go to sea. They didn't trust the northerners to keep up their end of the attack.

So Jon was forced to rethink his plans. The Iron fleet had been docked in the rivers and marshes around the castle, but their scouts told them that they had moved them farther away in response to his armies arrival. They had several thousand men here, Jon knew, but where those men were and how many exactly they were was a mystery. Jon had a simple plan: the majority of his wildling force would assault the fortress directly, while the remaining Karstark foot would march farther west to prevent any retreating forces from escaping, before they themselves attacked the western flank of the fortress. Ser Braith commanded the Karstark contingent, and he and Tormund would command the Wildlings.

The day of the battle, Tormund approached Jon's tent, "Prince Crow," he greeted, as the Wildlings had taken to calling him, "We're ready to attack."

Jon looked at him and nodded, "Let's kill some squids." Tormund laughed at that, and the two of them marched forward to where the army was assembled. Jon made no speeches, no great rallying calls, for the wildlings needed none. They were fighting for a new home, and Jon was fighting for his.

He simply marched with the front of his lines, and saw, upon a small bluff, that the Iron born were ready to defend the castle with a great sally, knowing that this side was difficult to defend. Jon surveyed the battlefield. They were a short distance north of the fortress, and the path here was a narrowing road that lead up a hillock. That hillock overlooked the fort and the surrounding swamps. Traveling between here and the Fever would be difficult, but not impossible. Jon ran, and the wildlings ran after him, screaming bloody murder.

The battle went poorly at first. They were outnumbered and outmatched in alot of ways. The giants took out swathes of ironborn with single strokes, but there were simply too many of them. That changed however, when the Karstark men charged the flank. Then the Iron born were surrounded on two sides, but kept fighting. Jon watched as his men swarmed the enemy, himself fighting tooth and nail against the fools. At one point a solid stroke caught his shoulder, and he barely had time to evade a finishing blow. Jon looked at the source of the blow and saw a man wearing black mail, with a golden squid in the center. _Victarion._ The two were standing, weapons ready, on the cusp of the bluff before the walls of the fortress. _Dammit, he wants me to duel him in front of everyone. Again._

The man swung with his mighty axe and Jon let it fly past him. Jon countered with stab into the midriff which clattered against his plate armor, not piercing but sending the man back. Jon moved again, this time half-swording his blade into a small opening in the armpit, which drew blood. The greyjoy screamed in agony, and quickly brought down his axe on Jon's undefended side, causing jon to scream in agony. Jon fell to his knees, writhing in pain, but Greyjoy was on him, trying to regain the fight. Before he could take advantage of Jon's weakness, a massive club barreled into his side, causing his armor to dent into him, all the joints and hinges revealing blood. The assisting giant finished the job with a second, massive blow. _Thank the gods the wildlings don't follow the rules of chivalry._

The small victory, however didn't help Jon. He could barely move, and the greyjoy around him were fighting to get the chance to finish him. Before long, from his angle, Jon could see the Greyjoy plot. Another vast force had taken up behind the fortress and were crossing the bogs on low boats, trying to destroy the northern force. It was then, from the trees, flaming arrows began appearing, causing the small boats to burst into flames, killing many. _The crannogmen._

Jon could feel his strength failing, but was joyed to see the sight of the dying relief force meant retreat for the Ironborn. He collapsed fully, and Ghost eventually found his body, guarding it from any and all attackers. The last thing he remembered was the sight of an wiry, gray haired, and diminutive man smiling, and saying in a quiet voice, "Your father would be proud of you."

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

It's a battle sequence! Sorry if any of the details here don't make sense. I thought Tormund would be ideal as a leader for the wildlings who defected to Jon, he seemed to respect Jon in the canon, and while I could've spent time developing their relationship like in the canon I thought it would be a lot of repetition so I kind of just left it at "After the battle they grew a mutual respect" For battle tactics, I never took any of the Ironborn commanders to be particularly savy in the ways of land combat, so they picked a battlefield where they could use oats to their advantage. Yes, Jon went around winterfell, for the sake of strategy. It doesn't make sense to gain fortress but lose a war, a fact Jon would be well aware of. I think that's everything

To Colo Kid: I had trouble with this one. If there was ever a point where I wish I could wave the hand of Deus Ex Machina, it's here. But I think the logic that Barristan gave her would leave her trying to get the problem away from her people, without putting them in danger. As for whether she will go north, no. She won't. At least, not yet.

To sexyevilempress276: Actually it is accurate to say adopted, at least for medieval times. The reason for this is steeped in royal law and that sort of thing but suffice it to say the "legitimizing" process is tantamount to adoption by a royal family. At least, that's my memory of it. And thank you for the compliment.


	26. Robb III

**Robb**

Robb was overwhelmed with relief as Riverrun finally came into sight. It had been a hard few months. The war in the east had been hard won since Tywin won back his grandsons' crown. Kevan had led a surprise attack on Payne Hall, and nearly retook it, if it hadn't been for it Robb's march west, breaking the siege in the battle of the Gold Road. That had been a long fight, skirmish after skirmish until Kevan finally gave up the field. Then word arrived that Tywin was besieging Harrenhal in Robb's absence. Edmure lead his force east then, and the battle for Harrenhal resulted in one of the most costly defeats for Robb's forces in the war. But it was costly for the Lannister as well, and forced Tywin to abandon the siege. It was then that Randyll Tarly's forces marched north so Riverrun could remain safe, while Robb led his forces to try to defeat the Old Lion once and for all. Robb finally was forced to concede the field after his Tyrell allies counseled him to strengthen his defences in the Riverlands, rather than lead another assault. So he had left his army in Harrenhal to defend the east under Greatjon Umber, while Lord Tarly maintained the assault down the Gold Road. The war was long and hard, and it didn't help that all his men could think to console him with was constant reminders of his upcoming wedding.

His honor guard reached the gate of the fortress, and Wills Tyrell greeted him, beaming at the amassed lords of the North and Riverlands riding with the elite guard of his army. Only a handful of commanders remained to lead the army at Harrenhal, but enough that should it become necessary, they would easily be able to fight a pitched battle. Willas laughed at the approaching form of the Young Wolf, "Good day, your grace. How goes your war?"

Robb couldn't help but return Willas' grin, "Well enough, how goes yours?" he japed. Willas' coded letters often read, to a common observer, as a list of complaints of the planning of the wedding. It was good to meet Wills in person, his letters made him out to have a very colorful personality.

Wills laughed again, "It goes well. Though, I'd venture to say that it's more your war than mine."

Robb raised an eyebrow, but said only, "It's good to meet you, Lord Tyrell."

"And you, goodbrother. Or goodbrother-to-be, I suppose. Come now, I'm here to greet you to a castle I do not own." Willas' lighthearted nature was a comfort to Robb. It certainly helped to have a friend, albeit a stranger who so happened to be a friend. Especially in the face of his upcoming wedding.

Robb shivered at the thought. It wasn't that he was repulsed by the Tyrell girl, he doubted any man could be. But he didn't feel anyth

ing towards her. His only experiences with her were a brief conversation that screamed falseness, and another one which ended in her face turning to disappointment. She was pretty, certainly, but that was the most he knew about her.

"Why is it you are here to greet me and not my uncle Edmure?" asked Robb.

Willas' grin dimmed, but not too much, "He is out on the hunt with my father and my brother?"

"Your family has arrived safely, then?" Robb followed.

"Yes, they rode in the day before this. They were somewhat... impatient with waiting, and Edmure decided to entertain them in the wood." Willas continued.

"Why didn't you join them?" Robb knew Willas loved the hunt, despite his injuries.

"I didn't want to leave the keep in time of war, and besides, someone had to greet you," he grinned falsely. When Robb met him with a burning gaze, he blushed and looked down, "Oberyn Martell was also supposed to arrive shortly." he admitted.

Robb laughed as they approached the great hall's entrance, "I'm certain he will appreciate the warmness of your welcome."

His mother greeted him there, along with his two sisters. He hadn't gotten the chance to speak with them of their capture, yet. But given the allegedly joyous occasion about to befall him, he doubted they ever would. As he saw the two of them again, he gathered them into a bear hug.

Arya beamed at him, "Did you win yet? Have you killed the queen?"

Robb was somewhat disturbed by the latter question, but remained resolute, "No, Arya. Not yet. But we will, I promise."

She nodded a bit too enthusiastically for his liking, but he decided it was probably for the best. _She survived what most would not._

Sansa was smiling for the first time he had seen since she left for King's Landing, "It's so good to see you Robb." she muttered as she squeezed him in a hug.

"And you Sansa," he replied as softly as he could.

Then his mother approached him, "Mother"

She hugged him fiercely, before replying, "You're doing so well, my son."

After they released from their embrace, his mother got straight to business, "I'm sorry to delay your rest, but you must address the Kingslayer and the Imp."

Robb grunted in response, and made his way towards the makeshift throne at the end of the room. Tyrion and Jaime Lannister had been sent to Riverrun after the victory at Harrenhal. Brienne of Tarth had said the imp was somewhat responsible for the recapture of Sansa and Arya, and as such Robb's honor required him grant a small request. It was quite a tale, from what Brienne had old him when they met at Harrenhal. He was careful to allow Tyrion and Jamie as little contact as possible, only allowing them to see the other was alive. As for the other two warriors, they had left with a handsome reward. Robb didn't offer either a lordship, though he did lady Brienne, who refused it, saying she served his mother, not him. He hadn't minded that as much as he felt he should have, after all, his own mother would hardly turn on him.

Robb waited in his chair as the guards assembled for Tyrion and Jaime Lannister, the rest of his family sitting down to face the two as they approached on the pews of the hall. Brienne of Tarth was summoned and sat opposite the assembled Starks.

Then the two Lannister brothers, in chains, were marched to stand before Robb by four heavily armored guards. Jaime was the first to speak, bowing as deeply as he could, "Your grace, why ever did you deign to once again make my acquaintance?" His snark earned him a swift kick in the side from one of the guards.

"Tyrion Lannister," Robb addressed the half-man, "For your assisting my sisters home, regardless of the intention, you have earned a boon."

Tyrion gave a wry smile, "I suppose it would be too much to ask me and my noble brother be set free?"

Robb's eyes blazed, "Aye," he growled, "It would."

Jamie coughed, and Robb's gaze went to him, "Perhaps," he said, "My dear brother and I could be kept in the same chambers. And perhaps allowed a bath or something similar?"

"Lady Brienne of Tarth," Robb's mercy was granted by her will, not the Lannister's.

Brienne spoke then, "Your grace, the Imp did not wish to help you in your war but help you he did. His sister tried to have him killed, and it's known that his father has no love for him. Allow them a house arrest, your grace. It would give their father that much more rage, and be a suitable reward for Tyrion's help in this war."

Robb pondered it. _It was a large boon, indeed. But perhaps he could gain something from it, _"Very well, but on one condition." Robb's face was intense, "You must both formally recognize the North as a free and independent nation, and me as its king. You must also recognize the wedding between myself and Lady Margaery Tyrell the will happen within the week."

Jamie was about to say something when Tyrion quickly spoke first, "Of course, your grace. We, Jaime and Tyrion Lannister, heir to Casterly Rock and the Westerlands, recognize the North as a free and independent kingdom."

Jaime gave his brother a look of betrayal, but Robb spoke again, "Well spoken, Lord Tyrion. Escort them to the highest quarters still available, we don't want them escaping any time soon."

The Lannister brother were quickly escorted out by the guards, and Robb turned to Brienne, "Are you sure this is all you want, my Lady?"

Brienne nodded, "His mercenary rescued us in the hill. He deserves this award."

Robb grimaced, and ordered court adjourned. His sisters and mother talked with him more about the small goings-on in the castle before another servant arrived telling him the dornish banner had been spotted shortly on the road to the castle. Robb then made his way to the gate, flanked by guards, where Willas was eagerly awaiting his friends arrival. As they waited, Robb learned about the relationship between the two southern lords.

The Tyrells, as it happened, had no love for the martells. Obery had been the one to injure Willas' leg in the tourney so long ago, but had felt so badly about the incident that he apologized to the boy and bonded with him. Before long the two bonded and were fast friends. Willas hadn't seen him in person for many years, but the two kept in touch. Robb was glad his goodbrother-to-be had a friend coming to meet him, but couldn't help but remember the fateful day Robert had ridden north to see his father, another meeting of old friends.

They spoke idly until they spotted, coming down the path, the proud sun and spear of the Martells. It was a small party, only a few dozen guards and the Martells, but nonetheless there was something impressive about the approaching dornishmen. It was not long before the banner carrier stopped, and a swarthy looking, middle-aged, mounted man rode to the front.

Robb spoke first, "Prince Oberyn." he said in greeting.

"King Robb," the man replied, his accent thick, bowing in his saddle as best he could, "I am pleased to finally make your acquaintance. I hear you have done me a great favor." He smoothly dismounted, while the rest of the party followed suit.

"And what was that, may I ask?" replied Robb.

"You killed the Mountain." Oberyn replied cooly.

Robb wanted to inquire further, but Willas spoke first, "Good day, Oberyn."

The man turned and a grin spread across his face, "Willas, old friend." he brought the Tyrell into an embrace, "I have not seen you in quite some time. Tell me, have you brought any of your horses here?"

Willas chuckled, "Only one. It was hard enough to convince my father to part with even her."

Suddenly Oberyn noticed two ladies standing next to him, one of whom Robb had seen riding next to him, the other had emerged from some obscured carriage. They were both beautiful, even in riding clothes it was clear that these were the desert flowers of Dorne. Oberyn smiled, and said, "Allow me to introduce my paramore, Ellaria Sand, and my niece, Princess Arianne, heiress of Dorne."

_The princess was not supposed to come._ Robb saw the same thought flash on Willas face in the form of a rapid look of horror, which Ellaria dismissed with, "Oh come now, just because I am a bastard does not mean you need look so disgusted."

"In Dorne we do not shun bastards as you do in the north." replied Oberyn sagely, "Though perhaps I speak too hastily," he said eyeing Robb. "Tell me, your grace, where is your new brother."

Robb wasn't certain, but he knew he had finished with the Ironborn in the North. The Redwynes had sent their fleet north, officially to greet the couple. However, it was well known that the plan was for Jon's army to sail to the Iron Isles to finish his side of the war. The only question that remained was whether he would make the wedding, or if he was merely going to ride into Riverrun briefly before going to Seaguard, a necessary precaution after the bridge at the Twins had been all but destroyed, "I am not certain. Last I heard he had crossed the Trident."

"A shame," Arianne has interjected for the first time, her voice smooth, "I had hoped to meet him."

_Had you?_ "He may arrive yet, your grace." replied Wills, cheerful as ever. The procession then moved into the keep itself, and the servants were suddenly busied with the added task of readying a room for the unexpected princess. As a result, Robb and the Martells found themselves sitting in the great hall, Willas joining them.

"I must apologize, your grace." Oberyn suddenly declared, "It is a poor thing to repay your kindness by forcing you to attend to my niece unexpectedly."

Before Robb could reply, his mother arrived and introduced herself to the dornish. She explained the situation with Edmure and the Tyrells, who had been called on return.

Robb eventually addressed Oberyn's previous comment, "It was certainly a surprise," he conceded, "Tell me, princess, why is it you came? It was odd enough when Oberyn decided to attend an alleged traitor to the crown's wedding, let alone the heiress to Sunspear."

Arianne smiled slightly, "I will skip the pleasantries, your grace. I came to meet your brother."

"And why is that?" Robb couldn't hide his suspicion.

"Because I like dark and dangerous boys." she replied with a playful eyebrow wiggle.

Robb was stunned, but his mother spoke before he could, "You want to marry him?" His mother still wasn't gratiated with his bastard brother, but still felt her duty to defend the Starks.

Ellaria snickered, "ll she said is she wants to bed him."

Oberyn spoke next, "She wants help should she need it, so that she could keep her claim to Dorne."

Catelyn frowned, and spoke with rising fury, "You want to marry the heir of winterfell so that you can have us fight yet another war?"

"I am certain," Willas tactfully interrupted, "that it would never come to that, if such a betrothal were even to be made."

"Aye," Robb agreed, eyes sullen, "I would hope not. I doubt my banners would fight for someone else's throne." Robb thought for a moment, "If you are here to secure a marriage, why have we not heard from your uncle?"

Arianne frowned, "He did not

Oberyn frowned at the slight, but then moved on to a new topic, "I have not properly thanked you for killing my enemy, the Mountain."

"You have no need to. Ser Loras Tyrell killed him, not me." Robb said truthfully.

Oberyn raised an eyebrow, "So you did not face him in one on one combat, as the rumors say?"

Robb almost laughed, "I faced him, but it was hardly one on one. I hd Ser Loras and two direwolves to help me. Regardless, I would have let him live. It was Loras who swung his sword and cut off his head when he tried to kill me from the ground."

Oberyn raise an eyebrow, "I had not heard that part of the story. Tell me, did he say anything when he died?"

Robb was confused by the question, "No, he just died."

"A shame," he replied frowning, "He felt no remorse for what he did then."

"And what is that?"

"He murdered my sister, princess Elia Martell," replied Oberyn, eyes flaming, "He raped her, he killed her children."

Robb was dumbfounded. _So that's why this prince was so intent on killing that monster,_ "I'm sorry to hear that."

"I was too. I was in Dorne, you see, when Tywin Lannister's men sacked King's Landing and the Mountain did his crime." Robb could tell this was a long time coming.

"Then you'll be pleased to know his head decorated the walls of Harrenhal for a long time." Catelyn cut in.

"Yes, my Lady," Oberyn smiled, "That does please me."

Willas suddenly asked a question, "Given that you didn't know the mountain would be killed when you agreed to come, why did you attend this wedding?" in a voice suggesting that he had long wondered this question. _Friendship can only go so far._

"To see you, my friend," he replied unconvincingly, "and to ask his grace a question. One I have not yet asked."

"What question is that?" Robb asked earnestly.

Oberyn smiled, "What is to become of the Reach after this war?"

_A damned good question._ "I have asked many of my attendants the same thing. As it happens, Mace Tyrell said he would announce the decision at the wedding feast."

"So you do not know?" Oberyn looked amused.

Robb thought for a moment, "I have my suspicions."

"As do I." replied Oberyn looking proud of himself, "I believe that Lord Mace Tyrell will soon be King Mace Tyrell."

_A fair guess,_ "You do?"

"The kingdoms are separating, your grace." Oberyn mused, "First the North, then the Iron Isles, soon the Reach. Why would one stay in such a decrepit empire?"

Robb frowned slightly, "What is it you're suggesting, you grace?"

"Dorne was the last of the kingdoms to fall. We have no love for the current king or his Lannister ilk. We will gladly leave this union, provided certain assurances were given to us."

Robb grimaced, "Allow us some time to contemplate such a thing."

Oberyn laughed, "Of course your grace. Your mind must be on the upcoming wedding."

A servant appeared and announced the readiness of the Martell rooms. The prince and princess excused themselves and Robb was left with Willas, "Do you really think my father will declare himself king?"

"Aye. He's wanted a crown for the Tyrells for quite some time. Why not their own?"

Willas looked troubled. He really hadn't considered himself prince material before now.

Then Olenna Tyrell appeared arm in arm with Brynden Blackfish, "Ah, your grace. I have yet to have seen you. I hope you have found everything properly readied for your wedding?"

He had. Perhaps a little too well. The wedding was in three days now, but the entire castle was more decked than he had ever seen a castle before, "Aye. Riverrun has changed in my absence."

"For the better, I hope." the Queen of Thorns replied, "I'm certain you will find everything to my granddaughter's exacting standards."

Robb raised an eyebrow, "So she was behind all of this."

Olenna got a twinkle in her eye, "Categorically."

Robb decided it wise not to question further. Before long, a servant appeared at the entry to the hall and announced the entrance of Garlan, Loras, and Mace Tyrell, as well as his uncle, Edmure Tully.

Robb grinned at Loras, who had befriended him, "Ser Loras, it's good to see you again. How was the journey from Harrenhal? It was muddy on our way up but you left quite some time before us."

"Well enough, your grace," Loras returned the smile, "Allow me to introduce my father, Lord Mace Tyrell," he said indicating a large man wearing hunting attire, green as his sigil, who greeted him with a bow and a "Your grace." "My brother, ser Garlan the Gallant," he then indicated a man who looked like a swollen Loras, who reciprocated his father's respects, "And I needn't introduce your uncle, Edmure Tully," indicating the smiling man who had already taken a seat at the table.

"Yes of course, uncle."

"Sorry I wasn't hear to greet you to Riverrun. The Tyrells were quite adamant about going on hunt."

"And what a hunter he is." remarked Garlan, "I doubt anyone could quite meet his ferocity. Oh, why hello dear brother." he jeered Willas, who merely scowled back at him.

As the rest of the party sat to discuss matters, Robb was suddenly aware that he was surrounded by his in-laws-to-be.

Garlan turned to a servant and asked in a low voice if his wife might be taken to see him. Mace Tyrell spoke over him, "It is good to finally meet you, your grace. I've heard great things about you."

"And I you," Robb lied, "It's an honor, ser Garlan. Your brothers speak highly of you."

He smiled wrily, "Do they?" he eyed Willas, "Perhaps, if I may be so bold, I would hear what they say of me, your grace. I would like to return the favor."

Willas laughed at the jape before replying, "You needn't worry, brother. Your wife would have my head if I said anything false."

"It's not the falseness I'm worried about." Garlan smiled, then turned to see his wife, Leonette, descend the staircase entrance and sit next to him.

"Your grace," Mace Tyrell began, "I assume everything is well with you? I should hope you're excited for the wedding."

"I believe so, though I would ask Lady Margaery yourself," he replied coolly, "With the war, I have been absent from much of the planning of this wedding."

Edmure nodded, "And your Lady Mother as well. The two of them have been thick as thieves in all of the planning."

Mace laughed, "Very much like them, your grace."

Garlan smiled, "I heard on our way that you have pardoned the Lannisters."

Robb's small smile turned to a sudden frown, "I've not. They were granted house arrest only."

"Indeed?" Garlan said thoughtfully, "Tyrion Lannister was genius in his attempt to defend King's Landing. His ingenuity prevented Stannis from winning this war. It is good that you keep him in captivity."

"Yes," agreed Blackfish, "He may be half a man, but he is dangerous nonetheless."

Edmure snorted, "At least his size means we can keep him in a smaller room and he won't notice much."

Robb glared at him, and Willas changed the subject to his views on the riverlands. He talked for sometime about the green hills and how different they were from the Reach before he came upon the subject of Harrenhal. Mace smiled, "I've heard your victory there was quite a tale."

"Aye, your son saved my life there." Robb replied, "The mountain was trying to kill me, but Loras severed his neck."

Mace beamed with pride, and Olenna frowned slightly, "Terrible business, war. Ah but these boys are noble enough, and they fight well for their king."

"I only hope it ends soon," Willas said wistfully, "And we can leave this all behind us."

Garlan only laughed mirthlessly, "No, dear brother. It will never end."

"Speaking of brothers," remarked Mace, "I hear you have legitimized yours."

"A necessary precaution, I'm afraid," cut in Catelyn, "Jon loves my daughters fiercely, and they need a protector should Robb fall in battle."

"Nevertheless," countered Olenna, "You can see why we find it distressing that you have given a bastard a claim on any of my great-grandchildren's throne."

"Jon wouldn't push any such claim," Robb assured, "He wouldn't want the throne of the North, or any throne for that matter."

"There are some fascinating rumors about him, though," cut in Garlan, "That he leads an army of wildlings and giants. That he can turn into a direwolf's ghost and kill anyone he chooses on the battlefield. They say he slew Victarion Greyjoy by simply looking at him."

Leonette shook her head, "I heard he ordered a giant to bash in the brutes head. Good riddance, I say."

Mace frowned, but asked, "What is it they call him? The White Wolf?"

_All of these people come for my wedding, and all they can talk about is my brother. _Robb smiled, "Aye, for his direwolf, Ghost. He was the runt of the litter when we found them."

Leonette looked taken aback, "But they say it stands as high as a hundred men on one another's shoulders, and that when it opens its jaws it's snout touches the skies above."

"And some say those skies is blue because we live in the eye of a blue-eyed giant," Oberyn cut in with a flourish.

"Prince Oberyn, I see you've arrived." Mace mumbled

"I have," he replied, sitting to join them at the now full table, "My niece sends her apologies, your grace. She is very tired from the road."

Robb nodded, still serious in demeanor, "Of course, you have traveled a long way."

"Tell me, your grace," Mace was insistent on speaking, "Will we be allowed to meet this brother of yours?"

"I'm afraid you will be as disappointed as I was," Oberyn remarked.

Robb eyed him suspiciously, "Aye, you will. The last we've heard of Jon was his crossing of the trident. He is still a three or four days march away from Riverrun."

Mace frowned at the news. Conversation drifted to other topics, the night's watch, the north, and on until Robb excused himself and went to rest before he had to hold a supper. He made is way towards his chambers, and was surprised to see Margaery waiting for him in his solar. She sat daintily as ever in an armchair, and was half-asleep before the door closed behind him louder than he would have liked. She woke with a start, and smiled when she saw him as if this had been her intention, "Oh, Robb, I'm sorry. I wanted to speak with you."

Robb looked at his fiance, "What is it you wished to speak about," he spoke gruffly, perhaps a bit too much so. _She is to be my wife, after all. Surely I can be kindly to her._

"I wanted to know if you were happy with me as your bride." She said quietly.

He thought about it. He married her out of duty, true, but that hardly meant they couldn't be happy. Afterall, his parents had been, "Yes, of course, Margaery."

She smiled sadly, "But you do not love me."

Robb wasn't sure what to say. _I barely know you, of course I don't love you._ She spoke again, her voice melodic, "It's alright, I suppose. I know you are an honorable man. You will be faithful to me and in return I will give you children to continue your legacy." she seemed so resigned. Robb had never known her to be like this.

"Margaery, it doesn't have to be like that," he attempted. He wasn't sure how it would be, either, if he was truthful. All he knew was he would do right by his wife, like his father had done before him.

She looked up, and Robb saw the wetness in her brown eyes, "Do you mean that?"

"Of course" Robb said, thinking it not a lie. Margaery then rose and embraced him. Robb accepted the hug, but was then startled by a kiss. They held the moment for a long time, neither of them entirely certain what to do next. Eventually, Margaery released her embrace, and the two looked at each other.

"I should be going," Margaery said quickly, "Best no one thinks we're up to anything illegitimate."

"We're to be married in a few days," replied Robb confused, "What could they possibly think?"

She merely smiled at him as she let the door close behind her.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

This was originally going to include the wedding itself, but I think I will divide that into the next chapter. I hope you enjoy this one, it felt very long. As for any possible canonical errors, Robb may not have been acting completely in character, but that was, at least to me, largely because he was getting over his exhaustion from recent battle. All the rest, I think I explained pretty straight forwardly but feel free to criticize me in reviews

to Imseveninchestall: Thanks a ton! As for the updating thing, talk about poor timing on my part for this one. It feels like I haven't updated in forever. My secret is that normally I find time to write three or four chapters at a time then just edit a little before posting them. And I average at 60 words per minute. That helps

To both guests: Thanks! Jon may get paired off but that hasn't been written yet so who knows?

To Karthik9: Thanks, I'm rather fond of that last chapter too. Something about Victarion greyjoy getting the same treatment from a giant that the Hulk gave Loki in the avengers

To Serblackfyre: I really haven't decided, but the answer is probably not. They are, afterall, playing the game of thrones, and only one person can win.


	27. Tyrion V

**Tyrion**

"You're really not very good at this, brother." Tyrion looked up from his game cyvasse to face the bored face of his elder brother, leaning against the side of his upholstered chair. The room was small and the door was chained shut, but there were two beds and a window, albeit a window that only gave view to the vast army of Robb Stark and the extreme drop into a river.

"I don't normally play at wars, Tyrion. I fight them." Jaime replied, moving another piece to certain doom.

"Well, given how well the last one went for you, I would figure you would appreciate some practice." Tyrion quipped.

Jaime held himself haughtily, "It was pure luck. We were ambushed and the young wolf had me surrounded."

"Just as your dragon was ambushed by my trebuchet?" he asked as his most valuable piece fell.

Jaime scowled, "Who's side are you on?"

Tyrion frowned slightly, "Truthfully brother, I do not know."

Jaime suddenly looked concerned, then angry, "How could you say such a thing? We're family!"

"Family, yes." Tyrion consented, "As is my sweet sister, who has tried to have me killed twice within the last two moons. As is father, who has revoked any claim I have to Casterly Rock."

Jaime looked taken aback, "Cersei tried to have you killed?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Tyrion sighed, "She hates me. You know this. Father does too, but he will not be a kinslayer."

The room was silent for a while, before Tyrion broke it, "The first time was during the battle of the blackwater."

"Spare me." replied Jaime.

"Oh?" challenged Tyrion, "You do not wish to hear how our beloved sister could stoop so low as kinslaying?"

"I don't want to hear it." Jaime declared.

"Why, have you somewhere to be?" Tyrion was angry now, "Please, don't let me keep you. The door is over there, though I'm afraid you may have to push rather hard to open it."  
>"Tyrion," Jaime began, but Tyrion was on the warpath.<p>

"She tried to kill me, Jaime. She sent a kingsguard to kill me at the Blackwater, and another three to kill me when we went after the Stark girls." Tyrion was livid.

Jaime spoke quietly, "I'm sorry."

Tyrion looked at him, and he continued, "Do you ever intend on going home?"

Tyrion spat, but matched his brother's quietness, "I think they'd kill me as soon as look at me there."

Jaime merely nodded in agreement. _Damnit brother, don't think I wish to leave. I merely must, _"Do you think they'll send another rescue party after us?" he mused.

"I sent that party, brother." Tyrion replied gravely, "Though I'm sure Tywin would love to see his son and heir back to Casterly Rock."

"But you said you wouldn't go." Jaime looked confused.

"I wasn't talking about myself."

Again, Jaime gravely nodded. Before either of them could say anything else they would regret, however, a knock came from the door. "Oh do come in, it's not as if we've much to do anyway," Tyrion jeered the stranger at the door.

It was a long while of unlocking chains and the sound of an impressive amount of metal moving before the door opened to reveal a brown haired man. The door shut behind him and the chains were relocked as he sat down at the cyvasse table, the game still unfinished.

"Who are you?" asked Tyrion.

"I am ser Garlan Tyrell." the man introduced himself as he sat at the table.

"Of course you are," remarked Jaime, "You are the spitting image of your brother."

"You are not the first to say so, Kingslayer," Garlan remarked, "But I thank you all the same. Everyone says he got the lionshare of the looks in the family."

"Would you believe it, they don't say the same about me?" Tyrion japed.

Garlan looked unamused, "Do you know why I came here, Imp?"

Tyrion looked at Jaime, who gave a shrug, "Perhaps you wished the grace of our company, or simply to give us some wine?"

"No," Garlan was humorless as Tywin, "I came to ask you a question. A question which your brother will not answer but you might."

Tyrion smirked, "I can't imagine what you might ask. I'm afraid I know nothing of tomorrow's arrangements. I've overheard that there will be a fountain that shoots summerwine from one of the guards, but then he also told me that my mother was a dog, so I wouldn't take that to heart."

"Is Joffrey Robert's son?" he asked.

Tyrion laughed, "Why do you think I would say anything about that? If the rumors are true, I endanger my entire family."

"The family that tried to kill you after you nearly held off an invasion with a tenth of the soldiers. The family you have only slightly more love for than King Robb."

Jaime looked furious, "Tyrion..." there was a dangerous edge to his voice.

Tyrion looked at Garlan, "Why did the let you in here?"

"I asked King Robb if I could see you, under the guise that I would question you on the whereabouts of his ancestral greatsword, Ice."

Tyrion snorted, "I could tell you that in a heartbeat. It is in the tower of the hand, under the watchful eye of my father. Now tell me, why are you really here?"

"Your father sent me a letter." Garlan said quietly, "He pays a high price for your freedom. He offered me enough gold to buy my own seat and make sure my heirs never have to suffer, all if I am a traitor this once. I need to know, for certain, whether or not Joffrey is the true King. Weather I will be a traitor once over or twice over. I swear to you, it will not change my decision."

_Father went to the Tyrells? Well a Tyrell, anyway. _Tyrion was stunned, but couldn't find words in his mouth. Garlan Tyrell was not a particularly dishonorable sort, as far as he was aware, but perhaps father saw something in him he didn't. Either way, Tyrion would not let his father win once again, not after what's happened. Garlan looked down, then rose to leave, "I understand."

"Wait," said Tyrion, "Garlan Tyrell, I do not believe my answer to that question will sway you at all, oath or otherwise."

Garlan looked at him with a raised eyebrow, "Why is that?"

Tyrion swallowed, "Because you would never be a traitor."

Garlan nodded at that, at turned to leave. Once he left, Tyrion turned to see Jaime's mouth open. His eyes gave away his rage, "You told him." he spat.

"What other choice was there?"

"Lie, damn you." Jaime looked as if he would strangle him.

"Garlan Tyrell has a reputation as being honest, does he not?"

"He's a Tyrell," Jaime looked furious, "They lie more than Lannisters."

"I am a Lannister," Tyrion replied, matching his brothers wroth, "That doesn't mean I like it."

Jaime suddenly understood, "You don't want him to free us."

"Of course I do," he replied, "But I won't lie anymore to people who only wish to help me. Not on my father's account."

"What of mine?"

Tyrion had no answer for that.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

I finished The North Remembers halfway through this chapter and now I feel HORRIBLY inadequate. Seriously, if you've finished the ASOIAF series, read that. In terms of Tyrion's actions here, he is angry. Really really angry. I tried to convey that as best I could. Sure it's illogical, but it's character building.

As for this chapter, I'm not certain about it. It's really just filler until the next part of the wedding can happen. But I thought seeing the brothers and seeing Garlan may shed some interesting light on the charachters? I dunno. Tell me what you think. If people really don' like it, I'll probably remove it.

to Kaizer-Kid: Woah, there buddy. Death on the mind?

to Ojha: Your wish is my command

to Alexceaser: Thanks

to Guest: Thank you


	28. Margaery IV

**Margaery**

Margaery stood as still as she could as a veritable swarm of handmaidens attended her. She was reminded of her first wedding as she was perfumed, her hair braided, her face carefully attended, and her wedding dress carefully put on. Her grandmother and her mother were in the room, fussing over the servants endlessly, but she was not worried. She felt strangely at ease with the preparation for the wedding. It was what came after that worried her.

Her father entered the room, holding a long silk maiden's cloak, green with a golden rose, like her last one. _Say what you will about her family, they are hardly wasteful. _"My beautiful daughter, Robb is a good man." Mace Tyrell said with a grin that Margaery recognized as a false one. _He's planning something, that much is certain._

The wedding was to take place under a heart tree, in respect of the Old Gods. Her grandmother had protested, but Lady Stark said Robb would accept no less. _Best not infuriate my husband before we're even wedded._

Lady Olenna gave her a final smile before parting with a, "Do try your best, my dear."

The handmaidens quickly finished with the preparations and Margaery walked down to the godswood, her long cloak being carried by several ladies in waiting, arm in arm with her father. The path to the tree had been carefully lined with paved stones for this occasion, and a great stand had been erected to support the guests of the wedding. When she finally came in view of the wierwood, she saw her husband-to-be, looking out of character with a shaved face, standing in front of it.

When Margaery finally reached the tree, she looked at the assembled crowd. The three remaining Starks stood in the front left, all of them smiling at their young patriarch. Next to them sat the Tullys: Brynden, Edmure and even Hoster, who had been wheeled out carefully in a small, but well adorned and comely cart for the occasion, much to a maester's upset. Behind them stood the Lords of the North and the Riverlands, who had all come dressed in various sorts of finery. On the right stood her family, smiling at her, Willas even giving her a wink as she made the final few steps. Further to the right of them stood the Martells of Dorne. Behind them stood the assembled lords of the Reach, as well as a few riverlords, who, in their number, could not fit on one side.

Margaery stood to face to face with her fiance."Who comes? Who comes before the gods?"

Before long, Robb said in a voice that carried throughout the assembled crowd, "Who comes? Who comes before the gods?"

Mace Tyrell replied in his most commanding voice he could muster, "Margaery of House Tyrell comes here to be wed. A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble, she comes to beg the blessings of the gods. Who comes to claim her?"

Robb replied, "Me, Robb of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell, King in the North and the Trident. I claim her. Who gives her?"

Mace again replied, "Mace of House Tyrell, father of the bride," he made a show of turning to Margaery, but his eyes were on the crowd as he bellowed, "Lady Margaery, will you take this man?"

In her sweet soprano voice, Margaery replied, "I take this man."

Robb took Margaery's hand, and they both knelt before the heart tree, and for a brief moment of silence, Margaery looked into the small wierwood's carved face. It was twisted into a mock smile, one that looked as if it was the smile of a murderer looking over his victim. A chill ran through her body, as she felt Robb's hand pull upwards, and she turned to see her new Husband. Her green cloak was shed, and Robb placed a heavy white and gray cloak upon her shoulders, fastening it with a wolf's head brooch.

They turned to the bannermen, and a cheer went up from the northerners.

"The King in the North!"

The riverlords returned, "The King of the Trident!"

The Reach Lords took up a general applause, and before long the party retreated back into Riverrun's great hall. When they arrived, a mighty feast was prepared, and she and Robb made their way, arm in arm, towards the head of the table.

They sat down, and wine began flowing freely, as did food. She sat next to her husband, and he turned to her and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. She smiled sweetly at him, but his attention was turned towards his mother and two sisters who approached the table with a smile.

Catelyn revealed a silver chalice, with a wolf in a field of roses adorning its sides, "A wedding chalice, for my son and his wife." She said in a motherly and kindly tone.

Margaery beamed at her, "Thank you, Lady Catelyn. It's very kind of you."

Robb smiled as well, "It's beautiful, mother."

Next came Sansa, a girl who Margaery had become fast friends with in the castle. She was such a sweet girl, it's amazing how she's managed to stay so sane in the wake of it all. Sansa revealed a beautiful dress, thick enough to be warm, but green and white designs accentuating the figure underneath. Sansa smiled, "Robb, for your lady wife."

Robb accepted the gift with a huge grin, and margaery rose to hug her friend for her gift. Arya came next. She was a troublesome child, and it was hard to imagine that she and Sansa were sisters. But there was something in her fiercely independent self that spoke to Margaery, so she found it in her to try to learn to love the child. Arya revealed a dagger, which she presented to her husband with a smile, "For Joffrey," she said as she proudly presented the weapon. Robb's face flashed with surprise and sadness before reverting back to his smile from before. He rose and put his little sister in a bear hug, which she squirmed desperately to get out of. If Robb was worried about the reactions of the other lords, he didn't show it. Margaery too thanked the child before she moved away from the table, allowing for her grandmother to approach the table.

Olenna Tyrell looked at Robb with a smirk, "Now I've three grandsons who can swing a sword and ride a horse. It is what it is, I suppose. To assist in those endeavors." she said presenting a beautiful pair of leather riding boots. Robb thanked her, as did Margaery, and she found her way back to her seat.

Before the next well-wisher could arrive, Robb leaned towards her, "Your grandmother has quite a way with words, hasn't she?"

Margaery laughed, "You hadn't noticed?"

"I suppose not," he murmured as her brothers reached the table.

Willas was the first to present his gift, a horse which, on cue, entered from the great hall's open doors, "A swift horse for his grace, so he may ride all the faster to my sweet sister when this war is over."

Robb smiled at his friend, "Thank you, Willas."

Margaery thanked her brother too, and Loras came to see his king. If Willas was Robb's friend, Loras was Robb's most loyal subject. He would follow Robb into the seven hells itself if that's where he led, "Your grace, I give you a sword for you, and a rose for my sister." he presented a newly forged sword, which had a flower pommel, but the blue tinted blade rose from a dire wolf's mouth at the base, and a rose bracelet for his sister.

Robb held the sword unsheathed, and looked at the impressive blade, "Thank you, ser Loras. I'm certain this will be well used."

Margaery rose and hugged her brother, "It's beautiful Loras. Thank you so much."

Garlan came last of the brothers, arm in arm with his wife, "King Robb, I give you a copy of _The King who Knelt, _detailing the life of the first Lord Paramount of the North, and his wisdom in saving his people. I think it good for the King in the North to remember the life of the last one."

_That's very nearly an insult._ Margaery was worried for her brother's meaning, but Robb merely smiled, "Thank you for your wisdom, goodbrother."

"Thank you Garlan." Margaery embraced him as well.

Willas laughed, "What no hug for me, Marg?" he teased.

Margaery embraced him as well, laughing the whole time, before sitting next to her new husband.

Other guests came and went. Her father gave them a case of arbor gold. Oberyn Martell gave a brooch of a golden scorpion, and Arianne gave them silver spurs. The festivities continued well into the night, complete with Robb and Margaery going to the assembled army of the riverlands, Robb giving some speech about the importance of the North or something or other.

They returned afterwards for dinner, which was a lively affair, with singers playing the "The Golden Rose" and "Wolf in the Night" and other songs of revery for the couple. Robb and Margaery spoke rarely throughout the night, despite sharing their wedding goblet, and mostly in a hushed tone so others would struggle to hear it.

At one point Oberyn Martell came up to the King to ask a question, and Margaery struggled to hear over the din.

Oberyn started with, "Your grace, this is a most beautiful wedding. It is a shame your brother could not attend it"

"Thank you, prince Oberyn." Robb ignored the latter comment.

"I have a rather important matter to discuss with you." Oberyn knelt next to him.

"Aye? And that is?"

"Mace Tyrell is a talkative drunk, and he told me he plans to declare himself the King of the Reach." Oberyn said, "My brother would plan to do the same, provided he was assured of your assistance in keeping such a title."

"You've mentioned as much." Robb replied drily.

"And you told me you would contemplate it, so your grace, have you contemplated it?" Oberyn asked pointedly.

Robb paused a minute, before turning to him and saying, "Aye. The North has no reason to hate the south, or their independence."

Oberyn smiled, "Thank you, your grace," and turned around to go to his paramore and niece.

Margaery turned to her husband, "Was that wise?" she asked.

"Dorne can hold on it's own. No army can pass the Boneway without Yronwood consent. And he's not liable to give it." Robb replied definitely.

"You would drag us into another war?" Margaery was being blunt, but it wouldn't do to skirt around the point.

"I don't think we would need to. Dorne has enough soldiers to defend itself" Robb seemed certain.

Margaery was going to reply with something, but a shout came up from the crowd, "Bedding! Bedding! Bedding!" _Great, an opportunity for all the lords of the realm to pinch my arse._

Margaery was taken by the lords of the realm and Garlan stood next to her as she was disrobed. Before she was completely naked, she whispered in her ear, "Stay in your rooms tonight." Before she could ask what he meant, he was gone, and she was in the room with a naked Robb.

They looked nervously at each other. Robb finally said, in a stuttering voice very unlike what she knew him to be, "D..Do y..you want some wine?"

Margaery giggled slightly at her own nervousness, "Yes."

He went to the pitcher and poured some Arbor gold into two different cups. Margaery picked one up and took a couple nervous gulps, which Robb did as well. They finished their glasses, and Robb finally got the nerve to lead her to the bed. She lay down in the softness of the mattress and he lay next to her, holding her close to him.

Robb kissed her softly, and she returned the favor by putting her hand to his crouch. They lay like that for a while, before, among a series of awkward movements, Robb lay atop of her, ready to do his duty. There was no pain that came, as she had been so warned before, and despite what others might say behind her back, she was a maid, and was somewhat unequipped from what came. _She rather enjoyed it, actually, though she suspected she would._ After the act was done, they lay side by side, and Margaery put her head onto Robb's chest. Robb kissed her forehead, and put his arm around her. It was then a great shout came up from the castle. They paid it no mind until they heard the sound of a man screaming outside as if he had been killed.

Robb suddenly sat upright on the bed, and quickly ran to find clothes to wear, "What's happening?" Margaery aske as she sat upright.

"I don't know." He answered, the shouting getting louder, "Quickly, get dressed." He ordered, as he looked for a sword.

Margaery did as she was bade, and found clothes enough for her to wear arranged by servants for the morning. Robb was armed now, and he took her hand, "We're going to run as fast as we can to the keep."

"Wait, Robb." she stopped him, "Garlan told me to stay in our rooms."

Robb looked disarmed, "Why did he say that?"

"I don't know, but he must've known what was going to happen." Margaery plead, "We should stay here."

Robb's eyes glazed over in rage, "Margaery, if Garlan was plotting against me..."

"He would never!" Margaery insisted.

"He would want to kill me, and you for being my wife. We need to leave here, now." Robb finished, and he took her reluctant hand as he opened the door to the sounds of battle. The ran towards the great hall, making it halfway through the hallway before they found a soldier cloaked in red, who took a wild swing at Robb. The King was faster, and with a deft cut he stabbed into the soldiers neck, killing him quickly. Margaery was stunned, but Robb tugged her hand to keep moving.

They reached the Great Hall and Margaery did all she could to keep from vomiting as she saw all of the dead bodies. Lords and guards who were stabbed and killed were bleeding on the floor as the remaining guards and lords fought against a sudden horde of Lannister men. Grey Wolf ran around the hall, biting and felling men in great numbers.

Robb found one of his generals as he gutted a man, "Blackfish, where are the ladies?"

The Tully man smiled to see his king wielding a sword, "Good to see you alive, your grace. The ones we could find are in the holdfast, but your sisters went to their rooms early, we haven't been able to find them yet as far as I'm aware. I sent Smalljon after them."

Robb turned to a lady holding a mace, "Lady Mormont," He ordered, "Take Margaery to the holdfast and keep her safe. Uncle, we need to get to the army outside."

Margaery was taken by a beautiful northern woman into a hallway opposite the one they emerged from. Before they scaled the stairway out, she saw her father, a blade protruding from his belly, his eyes glazed over. She had no time to take in the meaning of that, as they ran along the way until they found the exit to the courtyard where more Lannister men were being fought off by a handful of Tyrell men and the Red Viper of Dorne protecting Willas as best he could.

"Lady Stark!" he greeted. His fighting was like a leaf in the wind. He soared among the gathered enemies, spear spinning faster than the eye could see, only stopping to lash out into a man's neck.

Willas hobbled next to him, his right hand holding a sword as best he could, "Margaery, get to the Holdfast, Loras is in there!" He ordered his sister in the direction he was hobbling. She ran, and the Red viper joined the party as it fell back towards the huge oaken door of the keep. Willas raped on the door with a fury, "I'm Willas Tyrell. Let us in, damn you!" the way opened and the four found themselves in the grey interior of the hold.

Oberyn Martell demanded from the front guards, "Who's in charge here?"

"Lord Edmure, but he's still in the great hall."

Margaery left towards the Tyrell servants she recognized. She found her way to where she saw her grandmother,sitting in one of the first floor rooms of the hold, next to her a teary eyed Garlan, "Grandmother?" she asked as she noticed Olenna Tyrell was sitting over a body. Margaery's eyes began to moisten as she stepped further into the room and looked into the dead eyes of Loras Tyrell.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

Hey they're married. Arya's next.

And don't worry, I'm not done.


	29. Tyrion VI

Tyrion

The sounds of battle began when they were enjoying they're flavorless supper. Tyrion raised a glass of lemon water to his brother, "To the king and his lady wife, may they have many thorny pups."

Jaime laughed at that, before being interrupted by the clashing of steel. Tyrion looked out the small window in the room, and saw men carrying torches, fighting a sudden battle. An ambush?

Jaime was standing now, looking desperately around the room for some sort of weapon. Finally he tore a leg off of the table they played cyvasse on, sending pieces flying everywhere, "Brother, what are you doing."

"Riverrun is under attack. If they find us, they'll either kill us or free us. Either way, I'll need a weapon."

Tyrion stood up, and before long there was the sounds of a fight outside their room. The door was axed open and it revealed three men at arms wearing Lannister cloaks. The leader of them said, "Milords, your father sent us. We're getting you out of here."

Tyrion stood still a minute, but Jaime quickly ran out of the room. Tyrion scampered behind to follow them, but he was quickly left behind in his slowness. One guard fell back to meet him and said, "We're to take different paths, so that we won't be captured."

Of course we are. Tyrion ran along side his rescuer, "How did you get in here?"

The man laughed, "Some high lord let us in through the sally port. Had two flowers on his shield. We've two hundred coming in here, and the rest of our thousand are fighting the army outside."

Coming in here to do what? Tyrion was worried he knew the answer to that question, "But how did you sneak past the Stark army?"

He smirked, "Lord Lannister payed of the Boltons to sneak us past. Not a cheap thing, either, so I'm told."

"Why?"

He laughed again, but before he could reply, he saw a Stark guard approaching. The man ran forward, and with a deft move, killed the intruder with his blade. The man then addressed the question, "Your father really wants you home."

They turned a corner before the man put a hand on Tyrion's shoulder, "Wait here, I just saw a man enter that room up the way."

Tyrion was stunned as the man suddenly crept quietly to the ajar door. Tyrion decided to follow him after hearing the word "Stark" and when he got there, he saw his guard stabbing a burly northmen in the back, in front of which Sansa and Arya Stark stood horrified.

He watched immobilized in horror as Arya ran for a sword, but ended up knocked out by the but of his guards pommel, and Sansa screamed as loud as he could and ran for the door. He moved to let her run, but the Lannister man stabbed Sansa in the back. He saw as her eyes widened in pain and she spat blood. She collapsed under her own weight, saying as she died, "Arya... go."

Tyrion was stunned. His guard then turned to kill Arya with another stroke of the sword, but Tyrion shouted, "Stop!"

The guard looked at him, "She's a Stark, milord."

Tyrion roared, "Get out of my sight!"

"Milord, I'm here to get you..."

"If you don't leave now, I'll have my father destroy your family, your home, and anything you may own or care about." Tyrion raged.

The man took the threat to heart, and scampered out of the room. Tyrion knelt next to the fallen body of Sansa Stark. He closed her vacant eyes, and murmured, "I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve that."

Arya still slumped over at one side of the room, and Tyrion moved to make sure she was still alive, and was relieved when he saw her take a small breath. He stood in the center of the room, unable to think what to do next. How could father do this? Tyrion knew that he had before, to kill the Targaryens, but why these children? He didn't know if he could tolerate this any longer.

He sat down next to the cooling body of Sansa Stark, contemplating his life, when Catelyn Stark barged into the room. She dropped to her knees near the body opposite Sansa, and cried out, "No! My sweet child! My beautiful daughter, why?" she sobbed over her dead daughter's bloody frame. The mother looked up to see Tyrion, and flew into a rage, "You... You did this." she growled.

"No, no, it was my father's men! They killed your daugh.." he protested, but he didn't run.

"You killed her!" she raised a dagger over her head, and pointed the tip at Tyrion. Before she could lower the blade, a sword protruded out of her chest, sending her crumbling to the ground. Jaime?

"Come on Tyrion, we have to go!" his brother shouted, but he couldn't hear him. He stared at the dead body of Catelyn Stark. They killed her in front of her dead child. Tyrion suddenly wanted nothing to do with his family. Never again.

"Tyrion we have to go!" Jaime echoed.

"No." Tyrion said quietly.

Jaime's mouth hung open, "What do you mean 'no'?"

"I'm not going with you."

He suddenly noticed Arya had woken, and looked at her fallen mother and Jaime's bloody sword. Jaime moved the sword, but Tyrion shouted, "If you kill her, I'll kill you."

Jaime looked at his younger brother, his face misunderstanding, "You would kill your own brother?"

"My brother," answered Tyrion, "Wouldn't kill a child's mother before killing the child."

Jaime suddenly enraged, "You're turning your back on the Lannister name?" he roared.

"They turned their backs on me a long time ago," he answered sadly, "Go, I don't want to look at you anymore."

Arya tried to move, but when she stood she couldn't balance and fell back down. Jaime looked at his brother, "Goodbye, brother." he said, ire clenching his voice.

Tyrion muttered a "Goodbye" as Jaime Lannister left the room. After he heard his brother's footsteps echo down the hall, he looked at Arya, who was struggling to move, cursing in a quite murmur.

"Don't move, my Lady. I'll find you someway to get back to safety." He assured her. Why am I doing anything for the Stark girl? They hate my family. I don't have any family. Not anymore. He looked around the room, before remembering his own room. Surely no one would attack there.

He then tried to find some way to support her beyond himself, and for the millionth time cursed his dwarfness. He went to the side of the room, finding a table, which he upturned and tried to pry the leg from. He quickly found himself incapable of the task, and turned around, determined to simply carry the girl, when he saw a man kneeling in front of her.

The man whispered something to her, and she whispered back, "Ser, can you help me bring her to safety?" he asked. But in a blink, the man was gone. Tyrion looked around, finding no trace of the man. He ran to the little girl, carefully lifting her to his height and starting to drag her towards the staircase to the high tower where he was imprisoned.

As they approached the staircase, the sounds of battle ringing through the halls, Tyrion asked her, "What did you say to that man."

She barely whispered, "Jaime Lannister" before closing her eyes. He feared to think what that would mean. He hoisted her on his back, the girl once more unconscious, and slowly, step by step, made his way back to the room where he and his brother were kept. When he arrived, he gently placed her on his brother's bed, and closed the door.

He took a chair to the window, and watched as the battle took place. His window was situated so he could just see the holdfast, and the gathered army below. In the firelight above the hold, he saw a figure hoist himself onto the high walls on the roof of the tower, then jump into the river below. Was that a madman, or is the hold on fire? Tyrion didn't know stone towers to burn, but he turned his attention to the battle unfolding. He heard a horn ring throughout the field, and saw as a new host of torches ran into the mass of torches in the camp. Reinforcements, then.

He remained seated there, drinking a glass of lemon water, waiting for the Stark men to find him.

* * *

><p>Notes:<p>

This was originally written from Arya's POV, but, uh, that left it way more confusing than it needed to be. Also it was crap. This is short, but a surprisingly large amount happens. Hope you enjoy it.

To Parzival vi Britannia: I hope this answered some questions. Even if it doesn't, I hope you at least stay for the next chapter. Hopefully more questions will be answered there.

To Jean d'Arc: Sorry about that. Sansa and Catelyn, I'm afraid, remain dead.

To Ojha: I'm gonna break this down.

What?- A bunch of Lannister men snuck into Rivverun and attacked the wedding party, having been let in by Bolton and Garlan Lannister

Why?- To free Tyrion and Jaime, but also to inflict untold damage to the leadership of Robb's army

Who?- Garlan and a bunch of Lannister soldiers, though Garlan didn't necessarily understand the extent of the raid, nor did he fight in it.

How?- They were the light cavalry of Tywin's army, and the Boltons let them pass Harrenhal, while Garlan Tyrell let them into the castle itself.

Unless you meant the wedding. Did you mean the wedding?

To Anne: ...I'm sorry?


	30. Robb IV

**Robb**

How could this have happened? He was there, he was so close, and it happened. He lost another two of his family members. He had hugged his sister for what seemed like hours after his men found her again, as did Jon. The only thing Jon told him was a single phrase, _They will pay for this._

He was in his war room, his remaining commanders around him, including three new faces, Oberyn Martell, Jon, and his wildling commander. The room was sullen. _Everyone here lost someone in that fight._

They sat around a map of the riverlands, Riverrun marked in blood red. Robb spoke in a low voice, filled with rage, "Who did we lose?" It was a simple question, but a painful one. A philosopher may comment on the idea, but Robb was no philosopher.

Willas spoke first, "My father was killed in the first moments of the attack," Robb had never heard his friends voice so hoarse, "My brother Loras died of wounds trying to protect my mother, and Garlan..."

_Garlan Tyrell._ It hadn't taken long for the soldiers to call him "Traitor Tyrell" or "Kinslayer", though the name that stuck was "Strangleweed," for his indirect murder of two flowers. He had to live with none of these names, however. His wife had been stabbed on the way to the keep, and in his shame and grief, he had thrown himself from Riverrun's keep into the Tumblestone.

"Aye," Robb saved his friend from his shame, "What of the rivermen?" he asked Brynden.

"My brother died, killed in his bed." he said sadly. The two had bridged their differences so recently, it seemed a great crime to suddenly tear all of that away, "Edmure is fine, a bit wounded, but fine. Most of the Lords at the wedding got to their weapons in time, save Black Walder Frey, who died defending my nephew, and Patrek Mallister, who died in the courtyard. A few Lords lost children and wives."

Another silence hung over the table, "What of the north?" he asked Maege Mormont.

"Smalljon Umber was stabbed in the back trying to save your sisters, your grace." she said dispassionately, in a voice Robb had none to be her way of dealing with grief, "We also lost Robin Flint and Owen Norrey." _So many of my guard and friends?_

Oberyn cut in, "I lost my paramour to a Lannister who tried to rape her. They died in each other's arms." his suave tone replaced with pure fury.

Robb nodded, "We will have our vengeance. What of Jaime Lannister?"

Jon cut in, "Karstark's men found his body in the sally port with a throwing knife in his back." _You still don't call them your men, brother? They love you. I've barely even seen them and I know that._ They fought like demons last night, that much was certain.

Robb thought about the events of the night before. After Margaery went with Dacey, Robb had led the men under Brynden into a push out of the great hall and into the courtyard, where they pushed the Lannisters who were being held off by Oberyn and the Tyrell household guard. Unified, the Dornishmen led the spearhead into the camps around the castle, where they fought the Lannisters until Jon's men arrived. The Lannisters melted away like summer snow before the force of ruthless wildlings, hardened veterans, and giants. There were more giants than the stories said, even the wildest rumors only put him in command of a dozen or so, not the thirty there seemed to be. _I will have to ask him about that later, but not now._

Robb then added his own to the list, "We lost about a thousand men of the five thousand here, as well as my mother, Lady Catelyn Stark, and my sister, Lady Sansa Stark." _I couldn't save them. Damn it, I couldn't save them._

Robb turned to the wildling, "What of your people?" he asked him.

The man looked confused, "What do you care of the free folk?"

"You fight in my armies, in my wars. I care for my men, no matter where they're from." Robb replied candidly. He wanted them to at least respect him.

The man was the first to smile in the room, if a grim smile, "You really are Lord Snow's brother, aren't ya? We lost twenty free folk to the red kneelers." he reported definitely.

"Kneelers?" asked Oberyn, curious.

"Aye, that's what we call you lot. The free folk follow strength, not a fancy title." he declared, proudly.

Jon coughed, slightly embarrassed, "Forgive me for not introducing him, your grace. This is Tormund Giantsbane, my second in command."

"Aye," Tormund declared, "We came to fight Prince Crow's war, not yours." he said looking at Robb as if he had insulted him.

Macey looked as if she would gut him, but Robb merely waved a hand, "Very well. But we 'kneelers' have business to attend for now. You may leave if you wish" Tormund grunted, and left the war room, and Robb turned to his friend, "Willas, you are the Lord of Highgarden now, by all the laws of the kingdoms." Willas merely nodded at that, and Robb continued, "Your father told me, before he died, that he would declare the Reach an independent Kingdom today, and himself as king of the Reach." Oberyn Martell looked with renewed interest, as Robb continued, "If you wish to make such a declaration, I will stand with you, as a friend and brother in arms."

"Dorne would stand with you," Oberyn added.

Willas looked down in contemplation for a long while. When he finally spoke, it was barely above a whisper, "House Tyrell's golden rose is dead. Killed when the traitorous Lannisters put their blade through my father." Willas spoke louder, with more conviction, "We will be Kings of the Reach, but our rose will be red, to remember the blood of that day."

Robb nodded, and said, "Well then, Willas Tyrell, first of his name, King of the Reach, you should tell your bannermen of your decision."

"Yes, I shall, King Robb." he replied certain of himself.

Oberyn smiled for his friend's knew title, and pat him on the back in congratulations. Robb turned to his council, "We will compile a list of the dead. Everyone of their lives will be payed back twice over. We'll carve all of their names into the walls of the Red Keep and Casterly Rock. No one will ever forget what happened here."

Every head in the room nodded in agreement. Then Brynden asked, "What of the Imp?"

_What of the Imp?_ Arya had been found unconscious in Jaime Lannister's bed, Tyrion keeping vigil over her. He said nothing as his men took him in chains and threw him back in the dungeons deepest cell. Arya remembered very little from the night, when they asked her. _I suppose I should be thankful of that, given what we found._ What she did remember was being in the room where Sansa died, and being struck on the head. She vaguely remembered a man coming to her, and Tyrion carrying her up the stairs to his room. Beyond that, nothing. _She had been shocked when I told her what happened to mother and Sansa._

"We should question him." Robb said.

"We should kill him," grumbled Macey Mormont.

"He didn't run with his brother, Macey," Robb chided, "I want to know why. He kept my sister safe during the battle. He deserves a chance to explain himself." _I owe it to him, the maester said that had she not been resting the damage would have been far worse._

"You don't intend to have a trial?" demanded Brynden.

"No great-uncle," Robb replied, "I intend to talk with him. Alone."

"The man saved my little sister," added Jon, "He deserves a chance to explain himself before he goes to the gods."

"Your grace, I have a final request to make." Oberyn said, eyes still paled from rage.

"Yes, prince Oberyn?" Robb asked.

"I would like to join you in this war. Doran will not give me revenge for my Ellaria, nor my sister. I would join you, for my own sake." He declared.

"It would be an honor." answered Robb, before concluding, "I think we're done here." The party rose to leave, when, unexpectedly, Willas turned to his new goodbrother, "You should go to Margaery. She loved Loras dearly, she needs her husband to support her now."

Robb stood stunned with that news for a minute while the room emptied. Then Robb turned to go to his wife's apartments. When he got there, he found Margaery weeping on her bed next to her grandmother, who merely stoked her granddaughter's hand, saying nothing. He entered softly, and sat on the bed next to his wife.

He gently put a hand on her shoulder, and her grandmother quickly left the room to them. Margaery leaned onto her husband's shoulder, but didn't cry. Robb pulled her into an embrace, and Margaery muttered into his shoulder, "Why'd they have to die?"

Robb spoke carefully, "I don't know."

"But why now?" she was perfectly still, her brown hair tumbled down one side of her in an undone briade. _Gods she was beautiful._

"We'll find the people who did this," Robb promised, "I swear it."

Margaery leaned into her husband's shoulder, "He loved you." Robb looked surprised at this, "Loras, I mean. He loved you, like no one I'd seen since Renly." she added.

"I..." Robb couldn't finish his sentence.

"No, it's alright," Margaery said, "I just... I loved him. He was my protector, my knight in shining armor." She laughed the laugh of those in grief who are beyond tears, "I don't know what I'm going to do."

Robb held her tightly, and before long the two of them had fallen into the bed, holding one another in tears. Eventually, finally, they fell asleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

I hope you guys like this one. There's still more fallout from the wedding to come.

To Parzival vi Britannia: You know, I get all these "You killed Sansa? You... you monster!" reviews, but then I get this, and now I feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Thank you friend

To Jean d'Arc: This has been in the cards for a while now. I didn't want everyone getting too comfortable with the characters being alive.

To pauldehlinger: I killed Sansa largely because in this scenario, I couldn't see how she'd make it. The events played out in my head and no matter how much altering I did I couldn't have everything I want to happen, happen without a dead Sansa. So she died.

To danceegirl92: So most of this, I think i've adressed in the other comments, except for Jaime Lannister. I agree that, after book 3, he wouldn't do that. Ever. But then I think, remember that time he threw Bran out of a window? What the hell, dude!

To Mar Sarri-im: It was about time for some old fashioned main character murder

To Ojha: Not gallant, indeed.

To Anne: ...sorry about that, too?


	31. Daenerys II

**Daenerys**

"_Dracarys_" she ordered her three dragons back to the masts of her ships, after burning their sea fish dinner. It was a small, hard armada she had assembled, with a small army of soldiers waiting on them. Not far, on the horizon, was the white sand image of Dorne.

_This is where Rhaegar's wife came from._ It was beautiful, the crystalline sand reflected the midday sun, cascading the distant white spires of Sunspear in a radiant glow. The sun kept Daenerys below the canopy of the ship's sails, it much too bright for her not to be blinded as soon as she left. She sat in her makeshift wicker throne, Missandei attending her.

"Your grace," Ser Barristan approached her from the bow of the ship, "We're coming into the harbor soon. What are your orders?"

She spoke with certainty, "Raise the Targaryen Banner." she ordered.

Ser Barristan gritted his teeth, "I think that, perhaps, not wise, your grace."

Daenerys raised an eyebrow, "I'm to land two dozen ships in their capital, loaded with a thousand soldiers and three dragons. You think it unwise to raise a banner they'll soon see flying over them?"

Ser Barristan conceded, "Very well, your grace. I just worry that perhaps entering too loudly might cause some... unwanted attention."

"Attention from whom?" she asked, cautiously.

"Tywin Lannister." Barristan replied, "He may have taken losses, but we haven't heard of his recent movements. And no matter what, he still far outnumbers us."

She nodded, "Very well, then. But we shouldn't land here if we are to be more surreptitious."

Barristan nodded, "The summer palace of the Martells is three leagues up the coast. If we sail there we ensure not only some level of quietness, but as well an audience from the house."

_The water gardens._ She remembered Viserys' stories about the wonders of Dorne and how they supported them from a great distance. She would finally see one of the many great sites of westeros she wished to see. One day she would see them all, from the Red Keep to the Wall in the North. The thought of the north gave her a shiver as she thought of her punishment for Jorah Mormont, confinement as ruler of Mereen on her behalf. Finally, Daenerys agreed, "Then we sail there. Give the order, Ser Barristan."

He nodded, and before long, Daenerys felt the course of the ship shift away from the city. It was another hour before they came in sight of the palace. As they approached, Daenerys was surprised to see how low the palace was. It looked as if it's height was a three story tower and a low wall that surrounded the estate, but beyond that the gardens were almost entirely a two story gilded palace.

The palace was set on a long white sand beach, and while there was a small dock that looked like it was meant primarily for cargo ships supplying the royal family. Daenerys instead ordered the captains of the other ships to beach the boats on the sand bars leading up to the palace. When ser Barristan told her that there would be damage to the ship hulls, but Daenerys wasn't worried_. She would not be sailing back._

The ships stopped with a thud. Daenerys leaned forward, and her dragons jumped instinctively off the masts, flying circles around the fleet. Ser Barristan ordered her men to disembark, marching up the remaining waterline to march up the beach. Daenerys' ship docked, and she stepped off the ship, her dragons retaking their places on the ship masts.

She saw her unsullied form rows of spears, and Barristan marched over to inspect the troops, while she was surrounded by Grey Worm's guard. The household guard formed ranks in front of the unsullied, and before long the palace was being guarded, prepared for an attack.

Daenerys walked slowly in front of her army, facing the palace. She inspected the high, arching roof of the palace, and the tan stone building was shockingly beautiful. The three main entrances to the beach were far enough away that she could only really make out two of them in their full splendor. One of these was a great hall, whose doors were now closed to her battalion. The other was a veranda, which led to a large causeway for people to enter and leave the building. Dornish guards had taken posts there, alternating spearmen and archers, all of whom looked terrified at the sight of dragons.

Daenerys spoke to the assembled army, "I am Daenerys Stormborn, of house Targaryen, rightful Queen of the seven kingdoms, this is my Lord Commander of the Queensguard, ser Barristan Selmy." Silence, "I wish to speak with prince Doran."

Suddenly a voice answered her, "Prince Doran is not here," the female voice said in a sultry tone, "You are very foolish to come to his home unannounced." _Unannounced? We sent him a message days ago..._

Daenerys turned to see the figure the voice belonged to. It was a plain woman, who had dark, dornish hair, carrying a large grey shield in one hand, a spear in the other, and a whip on her side, standing on the veranda, "We sent a message days in advance of us. Perhaps it was waylaid."

The woman snorted, "Or perhaps you didn't send it." _This one is not frightened by my dragons._

"Who is it I am speaking to?" Daenerys demanded of the woman.

"Obara Sand, eldest bastard daughter of prince Oberyn Martell." The dornishmen seemed encouraged by her name, and that of her father. _This is one to watch for._

"Well then Obara Sand, we would be thankful if you allowed us into your home, and allowed us to speak with whichever Martell would have us." Daenerys declared kindly.

Obara raised an eyebrow, "And if we don't?"

On cue, Drogon let out a terrific roar. Obara thought about her situation for a moment, before turning to her guard, "Allow our guests food and wine to reinvigorate themselves, and get me a raven. I must give word of this to prince Doran."

The great gates of the palace opened, and Daenerys, Missendai, her personal guard, and Ser Barristan entered, Grey Worm remaining to command the troops.

Inside the hall, Daenerys was surprised to find a shallow pool created a moat directly in front of her, which was fed by a series of canals, making artificial rivers that criss crossed the room in careful geometric order, riding up in aqueducts near the ceiling, which was lit by the sun through what appeared to be a thin tarp. The entire room was filled with a slight blue glow, which played in the water, and smelled of a sweet desert rose, creating a comfortable feeling of calm that Daenerys enjoyed as she crossed a bridge over the first pool. The mess tables that were tradition in the seven kingdoms were echoed in style here, but instead of the traditional long wooden denches, there was a large marble tabletop, which looked as if it had been raised directly from the floor, as the ground was indented under it. Individual chairs were arrayed around them, the borders of the eating area marked by artificial rivers surrounding the area, leading to the head of the room where a long table arrayed for the dornish noble house's dining was carefully arrayed. A short, stout man sat there, looking curiously at her, along with another four girls, each bearing some resemblance to Obara but all of them were much younger. _Perhaps her sisters?_

Obara entered the room behind her, and announced, "Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, Queen of Meereen, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, and her councilor ser Barristan Selmy." Her voice was not kind, nor trusting.

The man nodded, "I am prince Quentyn Martell, son of Doran Martell, prince and lord paramount of Dorne."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, prince Quentyn." Daenerys replied diplomatically.

"And me yours." He replied courteously. _I do not like the way he is staring at me._

Daenerys took her seat at the opposite end of the princely table, ser Barristan sitting next to her, her guard carefully taking up defensive positions next to her, "I am sorry to hear you had not received word of our journey here, we had sent you a letter well ahead of our party."

"Yes..." he continued to stare her up and down, "We have long known of your intention to return to the seven kingdoms, but your journey was not announced to us."

Ser Barristan coughed, "Yes, your grace. But now that her grace is here, I think it well she should see your Lord father."

Quentyn frowned, "My father is in Sunspear, his seat, as he is want to be. If you wished to see him, why did you sail here?"

Daenerys answered, somewhat annoyed at Barristan's intrusion, "We thought it no well to sail into the city with dragons overhead. The dornish did not appreciate the last time that occurred."

Quentyn smiled, "You were correct in that assumption. If you wish to see my Lord father, you may travel to Sunspear. But you may not bring the dragons."

"The dragons do not leave my side." Daenerys commanded.

"Your grace, we have heard some most troubling things from Meereen about your dragons." interrupted Obara, "We will not allow you to terrorize our people unperturbed."

Daenerys had been keeping her hands folded on her lap, but now they balled to fists so tight her knuckles went white. _How do they know?_ "Very well then, prince Doran can meet us here." she said shortly.

"My father's health is vulnerable." Prince Quentyn countered

Obara added, "He will not be moved in short notice."

"Then shall we see your father?" Daenerys asked Obara.

Obara frowned, "My father is not here either."

Daenerys cocked her head, "If he is in sunspear, perhaps it would be easier for him to travel here than his brother?"

"He is not in Dorne, your grace. My brother has gone north with my cousin." Obara admitted

Ser Barristan looked troubled, "Where has he gone? and why?"

Prince Quentyn answered this time, "Riverrun, to attend the wedding of his friend's sister."

Ser Barristan frowned, "You mean the wedding of Robb and Margaery Stark." _How did Barristan know that this Oberyn was friends with a Tyrell?_

The dornishmen looked annoyed, "Yes."

"Perhaps then," Daenerys countered, rage building, "We should wait here for Prince Doran."

Prince Quentyn gritted his teeth, "Yes, very well." he turned to a servant, "Prepare rooms for Queen Daenerys and her guard, and prepare a meal for her soldiers and her dragons." he ordered.

Daenerys rose smiling, confident in her day's diplomatic victory, "Thank you, prince Quentyn."

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

We needed to move away from Riverrun for a while. This chapter, for reference, is the day after the wedding. There is intrigue afoot, I promise you. Rest assured bad stuff will probably go down soon.

I've had an idea floating around, and I wanted to hear what you guys thought about it: Would you guys mind an OC House making an appearance, or even being a POV later on? I don't really need it, but I think I could do some cool stuff with it.

To Ojha: I hope I didn't marry any marital prospects for you. But in all seriousness, I think I did a decent job thinning the herd here

To SerBlackfyre5: Thanks man. I never meant to insinuate I was really gonna change anything about the story, or even that the comments bothered me, but thanks for your support.

To Parzival vi Britannia: About Garlan, I think I kinda failed to make it clear that he never thought that the Lannisters would raid the castle, only free Jaime and Tyrion, which he was okay with. As for Willas giving up his birthright and kingdom to Robb for the sake of his friendship and brotherhood, I wanted it to go that way at first, but I just couldn't see it. Even if it did happen, Robb wouldn't accept. He just doesn't want to rule the South.

To Mar Sarri-im: Thanks! I really enjoy the idea too. I know this chapter didn't talk about the greater political scheme too much, but that's all on it's way, trust me.

To Beacon21: Maybe later, but for now he's got plans. I will reveal those in due time.

To jean d'Arc: Thanks!

To guest: out of curiosity, which parts didn't you like and which parts did you like and why? I wanna know, cuz I think it'll help my writing.


	32. Doran I

**Doran**

His old bones hurt under his own weight. His lined face was put into his carefully practiced face of seeming neutrality. He struggled, with the help of a young guard, to the waiting room hidden in the labyrinth of the Water Gardens. As soon as Daenerys Targaryen's ships had been sighted off the coast of Sunspear, but then diverted course, he had known to prepare for invasion of his home. He knew the girl expected his support, so he carefully had his relatives stall for time, in a desperate gambit that seemed to have payed off. Save one minor detail: his son's floundering meant he was then expected to be on his way from Sunspear, where he wasn't. Still Quentyn had done his duty well enough.

He had to be careful now. His brother had been sent to negotiate for Robb Stark's help in securing dornish independence, with the added benefit of finally having a chance to end Tywin Lannister's reign once and for all. But now that Daenerys was here, he knew she would desperately want to force the King in the North to submit, as well as his reachmen allies. This was unlikely at best, suicidal at worst. Doran had little love for the northmen, less for the Tyrells, but he respected the Young Wolf's prowess tremendously. _Enough that when I heard of Ariane's plans to marry his brother, I did not stop her journey. Seven hells, I even considered sending Quentyn to court his sister as a contingency plan._

Doran wondered if he'd been too hasty to give up on his Targareyan ambitions. He had no love for the rest of the kingdoms, it was true. He much prefered Lys to Oldtown, Braavos to King's Landing. But still, he had a duty to his family to try to gain as much as he could for his descendants. _And a duty to my sister's memory for vengeance._

The next week he would pull his trick, and present himself as if he had come from his house's seat, and he would send the raven to Riverrun. The more Doran had thought about it, the more it became clear that independence was the only logical route for Dorne. _Rhaegar betrayed us before Tywin did._ Now all that remained was dealing with the Targaryen girl.

He ordered his servant to gather his sons and his niece. They filled into the small room where a table with a map of westeros was carefully arrayed for prince Doran's assistance. His family entered, Trystane looking eager to please, Quentyn looking smug, and Obara as serious as ever. _My family._

"Father, the dragons have been put in a pen, but the girl demanded we not chain them." Quentyn opened conversation, "She still believes you to be in Sunspear."

"As she will continue to believe, unless one of you are foolish enough to divulge the truth." Doran commented. He loved his son dearly, but he could be anything but intelligent, " Have you begun courting her?"

"I have, father. I believe she will accept my proposal." he replied. _Overconfident, but that could be helpful._

"I do not trust her," commented Obara, "Her dragons do not seem to heed her, and they will be difficult to deal with."

"As will she, as we no longer wish to union with her." Doran said, taking a sip of wine, "We had made a pact to marry Daenerys' older brother, but her late husband had him killed. Apparently without Daenerys' intervention, perhaps even with her encouragement."

Quentyn nodded, "Then we must ally with her, we have a duty."

Doran took another sip, "We have no need of the Iron Throne."

"What?" Obara exclaimed, shocked.

"The other kingdoms have killed more Martells than they have saved. They have done nothing for Dorne. We are better alone." He replied.

"You want to become independent?" she breathed.

"I sent Oberyn to negotiate with Robb Stark on that very idea." Doran confirmed.

Quentyn looked apprehensive, "Perhaps we could get Daenerys to agree to our independence?"

"Unlikely," he replied quietly, "She will destroy Dorne with her dragons as soon as she hears."

"She wouldn't if one of us were counseling her." Quentyn attempted. _A dishonest suggestion from an honest boy. Very well, I'll play your game._

"Which you will accomplish with your proposal?"

"Yes, father." he answered quickly.

"Father?" the voice of Trystane spoke quietly. _He was a timid boy, but a good one. But he was never meant to rule,_ "What of my betrothed?"

_A good question. I have kept her here this long to ensure her mother's cooperation, but now I have no need for leverage._ "Do you not wish to marry her?"

He was quiet a while, "She has a claim on the Stormlands, if not the Iron Throne." he said eventually. _Good response, but a marriage for love will not lead to what you want, in any regard. I know that all too well._

"When you are of marriage age, we will discuss this further. For now, do not worry." _I can't sacrifice his hand just yet._

"But father, what if she finds her?" Trystane asked.

_A good point. That would not be good..._ "We will send her to Sunspear, along with Tyene."

Obara nodded at the thought, "So what shall we do about her?" she addressed the largest issue.

"For now, we will see if Quentyn's plan will work." _It won't, but then that's not all we will be doing._

"And if it doesn't?" Obara continued.

Doran frowned, "The last time dragons came to Westeros, Dorne resisted them. We shall do it again."

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

This is a quick little foray into Doran's plans. Sorry if it's short, but I have been swamped and just wanted this to get out there.

To the overwhelming negative response to OCs: So I'm not huge in the fanfiction scene, but clearly OCs have a dark reputation. Now at first I thought, oh, well, you know, can't be too bad. But then I read some. And yeah, they're really bad. And I'm not cocky enough to think that I'll be able to do a better job. So no OCS.

To SerBlackfyre5: Sorry, mate, but you've been outvoted on this one

To Jajacob: I dunno if that will happen. I doubt it, they seem pretty secure at the moment unless some event occurs that really makes things go haywire.

To Ruci: So I appreciate the actual criticism, but when I read this comment I was extremely offended. Like, who the fuck do you think you are to tell me my idea of cool is so misguided it needs quotation marks around it? But, I may have been too hasty in my judgments, and I'm going to try to approach this as objectively as I can. What I'm saying is, if this sounds a bit heated, it probably is.

The OC I had in mind was really anything but a Gary-Sue or even an Anti-Sue, more along the lines of a cross between Mikken and the Hound, but without the Hound's combat prowess. But I can understand why that would be a concern.

About Robb's grief, this is born of two issues. One, I'm not really able to write grief that well. I tried my best, but the other reason is whenever we see Robb grieving he gets angry. Then he becomes extremely serious. I skipped most of the mad, and went straight to the serious, because he's physically exhausted at this point.

As for Garlan, next chapter there is going to be a scene where the characters figure out why he did what he did, and what he meant by it, what went wrong, why he was suddenly so sad he had to jump off of a castle.


	33. Tyrion VII

**Tyrion**

_Dungeons are never really an ideal place to be, are they?_ It had been three days, he'd been down here. The passage of time denoted by the small, barred window in his cell. _At least I've been given a nice cell._ He wasn't, at first, but for whatever reason the Young Wolf ordered the guards to put him in a nicer cell the day after the attack. The day he was brought here, he was told by a guard that his brother was dead. He had been alone with his thoughts about that for some time now. He grieved for a long time, regretting that their last interaction was one of hate. But if there was one thing he was certain of now, it was that he could never return to his family.

The guard had also told him the King Robb would be coming to see him to decide his fate, but that hadn't happened. Tyrion figured he was busy with funerals and his new wife.

Tyrion languished on his pile of hay, waiting for a long while before he heard the sound of the guard approaching. He stood up, and looked at the door. When he saw the figure in the door, he couldn't help but smile. _The long awaited visit at last._

"Tyrion Lannister." King Robb said in greeting. A servant rushed in ahead of him, carrying a sturdy chair, another two rushing in to clean the cell hastily before Robb sat down. When they had done their duty, Robb sat at a small wooden table opposite Tyrion.

"King Robb." Tyrion replied with a bow before taking his seat, "Am I going to die?"

The King's face was soured with long hours of grief, but he cracked a small smile at that, "Many of my banners want you to."

Tyrion smiled back, a wry smile, though a false one, "Shall I close my eyes and turn around?"

Robb's previous demeanor returned, "If I were to kill you, I would not waste the opportunity in a dungeon cell."

Tyrion frowned, "No, I suppose you wouldn't," his shoulders fell, "Then why are you here?"

Robb hesitated for a moment, "A servant who was bribed to silence told us that Garlan Tyrell visited your prison before the attack. What did he tell you?"

"That he had received a letter from my father, instructing him to help free us in exchange for a title." Tyrion replied.

"Aye," Robb's face did not change, "He did. We found it in his study, along with several others, promising him Harrenhal should we lose this war. Did he tell you anything else?"

"He asked us if Joffrey was legitimate." Tyrion replied, "And I told him he wasn't."

"Why would he ask that?" Robb demanded.

"He wanted to know if his betrayal of you would make him a traitor once or twice over. It seemed he had honorable intentions."

Robb sat back and pondered this, "He said nothing of the attack?"

"Not beyond freeing us, no." Tyrion nodded, "Your grace, if I may be so bold, I do not think Garlan thought my father would be so dishonorable as to massacre a wedding feast."

"I believe you are correct." Robb affirmed, "What we recovered from Garlan's rooms and his study seem to indicate he knew nothing of the full plan."

"He didn't destroy all evidence of his involvement, then?" Tyrion asked

"No." Robb replied, realizing too late he revealed more than he intended to. _He's not very experienced at intrigue, is he? But then Garlan is. Did he keep the letters as evidence for my father's promises? How did he expect to capitalize on them? He could hardly reveal them in court..._ Tyrion wondered if there were other intentions at play here. _Perhaps he needed it to contemplate over._

"Then why ask me?" Tyrion questioned.

"I needed to know for certain." Robb replied.

"And you couldn't trust Garlan's word?"

"He couldn't give it." Robb's blue eyes were distant, "He threw himself from the keep after the attack."

_He killed himself?_ Tyrion could hardly believe it. _But then, if he really hadn't know..._ "Well now you know. Shall I prepare myself for the headsman?" Robb looked as if he didn't know, so Tyrion decided to ask another question, one that had been vexing him for some time, "Is your sister alright?"

Robb nodded, "She is, but she remembers nothing from the attack. She was shocked to hear mother and Sansa..." he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.

"That's for the best." Tyrion said, kindly.

"Why?" Robb asked after a long pause.

"She was just a child," Tyrion lied, "she needed to be protected."

"So you ran from your own freedom and that of your brother's?" Robb asked. _He's getting better at this game._

"I..." Tyrion tried to begin, but he broke down. He didn't know how to tell him what had happened, if he even could, "My brother and I had a disagreement after we found your family. He wanted to leave, but I couldn't just leave her there to die. And it's not as if they'd be any kinder to me than you were." _Not the whole truth, but you didn't lie. Why in seven hells didn't you lie?_

Robb nodded after a long while, "Your family doesn't want you home."

"My family wants me dead." Tyrion corrected, grimly.

Robb seemed to ponder the idea for a long while, "You wouldn't return to them, would you?"

Tyrion almost laughed, "No, your grace. I think I'd sooner you kill me than them, if only to spite my father." he spat.

Robb contemplated that, "Very well. I have made my decision." he declared. He walked up to the guard in front of the door, "Bring him back to his room. Guard it, but I don't think the locks will be necessary."

_What? _"What?!" came an echo to his thoughts in the form of a woman's voice, whose face was obscured by the prison cell's walls.

"He won't try to escape, Dacey. He's nowhere to go. And we may have use of him yet." Robb replied, voice somber.

Two guards entered the room, revealing the way for Tyrion to walk back up to the familiar tower high room. Tyrion turned to Robb and the shockingly beautiful woman he was speaking to, "My Lady, you want to kill me, my father wants to kill me, my sister want's to kill me, though she has since I was born. It's a wonder I'm still alive at all. Given all of that, do you honestly believe I would risk leaving the safety of a castle's walls for the slightest chance I can run to another castle where they will kill me ever so slightly slower?" Tyrion asked, sarcasm returning.

The woman snorted at him, "Your grace, if you're keeping him alive because you don't want to lean down so much, I will gladly take your place."

"No, Dacey," he replied, "He has saved my sister twice. If he was so aligned with the Lannisters, he wouldn't have even done that once. He will be able to wander the castle as he pleases, so long as he has a guard. Under no circumstances shall he leave." Robb ordered.

"Your grace!" she huffed, "His brother tried to escape, killed your mother, watched as your sister died and did nothing!"

"You would judge him on the actions of his brother?" Robb snapped back, "Would you judge my wife of the actions of Garlan? I once called Theon my brother, am I to judge myself on his crimes? Shall I take my own head?" Robb fumed.

Dacey looked taken aback, "No your grace..."

"No." he interrupted her, "Then the decision stands."

Tyrion was shocked by the sudden defensiveness. _Why me? _I've done little to help, and much to hurt. _And so defensive of his wife so soon after his marriage. I suppose he needs us to help him with his war. _Tyrion began his journey back to his prison room, which was no longer so much a prison, unchained for the first time in many weeks. Despite all of the pain of the week, he couldn't help but have a smile on his face.

Robb peeled off the group after seeing his new wife in the hallway. Tyrion didn't look for long, but in his periphery, saw the two embrace. _Perhaps there is more there than I assumed._ For the first time in a long time, Tyrion found his thoughts go to his once wife, Tysha. There was still emptiness in his stomach at the thought of the name. _In another life, perhaps. If only it were all real..._

Finally he got back to his room, which was untouched since he had been brought back to the cell. Jaime's bed was still disturbed as it once was. He sat down on his older brother's prison bed, and, in a sudden fit of sadness, cried for his fallen brother.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

Fanfiction was down yesterday, so these chapters were delayed. In what one may consider news, this document is now 100 pages long. Break out the champagne poppers! But not really, like, if you're somewhere where it's unsafe, like school or a library or something cuz you can get arrested and, from what I hear, there's terrible internet reception in prison. Then where would we be?

In this chapter I really tried to get the whole feel of sadness from the two characters as much as I can. I really hope that translates well, with Tyrion's attempt to be funny, Robb constant dourness, all of that.

To Ruci: I reread what I said, and truly, honestly, without a shred of irony, I am sorry for what I said. I was in a bad place and I took out my frustration on you and that's not okay and I'm sorry.

As for your comments on OC charachters, you're correct. The best way to implement a charachter in this situation is making a house where the information is incomplete. The best area for that would be the area of the westerlands that divides the riverlands from the reach, which is where my family was going to be. But, people really didn't like the idea, so I caved.

I'm glad you think Doran and Dany are all good though. Honestly I was hesistant to do a Doran chapter, but I thought it was too good to miss up.

To Saint River: I think Doran is like, always right. But yeah, I agree. The Iron Throne is, in this story, being seen as a hinderance. No one wants it anymore. But don't think that has Dany down and out, she still has her friends and her supporters.

To Jajacob: Lol. I think that there's going to be some fun involving dragons soon.


	34. Daenerys III

**Daenerys**

Daenerys sat outside, the gentle sea-breeze disturbing her silver hair, causing it fly into her view. The bench looking towards the approaching carriage of the prince of Dorne was not uncomfortable, certainly, but it hardly had the elegance of the more luxurious amenities in the water gardens. She raised her gaze to see the brown, covered carriage, which waddled down the well worn road, kicking up a small patch of dust which seemed to blend cleanly into the sand colored Martell banner being held high by the leader of the procession, making it seem that there were two suns. One that fell slowly behind the palace, basking Dorne in a fire like glow, and another, which rode, blazing red, to guide the path of the elderly prince.

When the prince's carriage finally arrived in front of the palace, Daenerys took the opportunity to look the man up and down. It was true, that he was a frail man for whom travel would be difficult. It made sense why it took a week for him to make the full journey here. By the time he stood, with a large, burly, armored man assisting him, he had been in view for a long while.

The man made a slight bow, and she returned it with a curtsey, "Prince Doran, it is a pleasure to finally meet you." She graciously greeted.

"Daenerys of house Targaryen, rightful Queen of the seven kingdoms," he said with a small smile, "You'll excuse me if I do not wish to speak here. The years are not kind to me."

She nodded in assent to her request, and the prince's party was brought in to the palace, and she and the prince were led to his solar, where a map on the table marked the location of meetings. Ser Barristan and Grey worm, ever her loyal protectors, followed in courteously, Barristan finding a seat, while Grey worm standing guard at the door. Two boys entered the room, along with the ferocious woman who greeted her.

"It is good to see you again, father." greeted Quentyn, face a grin. _Funny, I never knew him the type to grin._

"And you my son," answered Doran with a warm smile, "And how are you, Trystane?"

"I am well, father." replied a shier, smaller voice. _I have seen this boy around, but never did I know he was of such importance._

"It is an honor that you would come all this way to see me, Prince Doran." began Daenerys. _Best be courteous to my host._

"It is more of an honor that you would have me, your grace." answered Doran, kindly.

Ser Barristan took the center, "Prince Doran, I think we should discuss our plans for the coming war."

"Yes," Prince Quentyn commented, looking eager, "We should."

Doran coughed at the implication, but nonetheless began, "My army is ready at the Boneway. They are prepared to fight to reclaim your throne. However, there are several factors that may stand in the way." He pointed to the passage between the Stormlands and Dorne.

"Such as?" began Ser Barristan.

"The army of Stannis Baratheon. He has declared himself king of the Seven Kingdoms, and his army and Lord Tywin Lannister's have been skirmishing on the border of their kingdoms for sometime. His navy has taken up residence in Tarth, and last we heard, he was preparing to make another grab at King's Landing." Obara answered, bluntly, "From what we hear, it is a bloody business."

"The Usurper's brother tires his army vying for the throne he cannot keep. What of the Lannisters?" asked Daenerys.

"Tywin has three armies we know of. The smallest, under lord Lancel Lannister harries Stannis on his attacks against the crownlands. The next largest, under Kevan Lannister, defends against the King of the Reach's efforts to destroy Casterly Rock from the Gold Road. The Largest duels with the Young Wolf's generals over the God's Eye." Doran answered, his finger indicating the areas of last scout.

Ser Barristan caught what Daenerys didn't, "Robb Stark does not lead his own army? Has he been injured?"

Doran said softly, his face blank, "You haven't heard of the Black Wedding?"

Daenerys looked angrily, "There has apparently ben news kept from us, Prince Doran." looking pointedly at Obara, "Tell me, what is this wedding?"

"Robb Stark married Margaery Tyrell more than a week ago. The Lannisters ambushed the unsuspecting guards of the keep and massacre the assembled Lords and Ladies." Doran said mournfully.

"What? But my father..." cut in Obara suddenly.

"He made it alright, but I'm afraid Ellaria was not so fortunate. She died in her paramore's arms. Arianne too, has survived." Doran soothed her, but the mention of her beloved father's paramore dying incensed her.

"We shall make them suffer." she said in a fury.

"We shall, my Lady." Daenerys cut in, looking authoritative, "But first we must fight to reclaim my throne. Then we will have our revenge."

Ser Barristan nodded, but then asked another question, "What of the Young Wolf's armies? Where do they fight?"

"The young wolf's brother, "White wolf", as they've been calling him, arrived and saved the wedding feast from the attack. Evidently, they had been freeing the north from the attacks of the Ironborn, and now they ride to finish the task they've started. The armies of the Reach assault the Gold Road, as I've said, and a man named Greatjon Umber leads the Northern host in Harrenhal, desperate to destroy Tywin Lannister."

Daenerys looked haughtily, "The usurper's dogs fight amongst themselves. We shall be there when they tire to annihilate them once and for all."

But Ser Barristan looked troubled, "Who is this 'White Wolf'?" he asked.

Trystane answered, "He is the bastard brother of Robb Stark," answered the over excited man, "He was a brother of the night's watch, but he was released from his vows after winning a battle against the wildlings. Then they chose to follow him, and they had thousands of warriors and giants, and they destroyed the Greyjoy armies, because he rides into battle as a ghost, and he appears wherever the enemy commander is and kills them so the army can't fight." he took a breath to continue his lighting fast explanation, when Doran hushed him.

"Yes, yes," he chided, "And now he means to destroy Pyke for the deaths they've caused his family."

"Giants?" Daenerys asked the boy. _The stuff of fairytales. Just tall tales, surely. But then, I do have dragons..._

"No doubt just rather large men, your grace." answered Quentyn cooly, his face trying to seem swave. _I do tire of his constant flirting._

Prince Doran then added, "There are other matters that do concern me, your grace."

Daenerys turned, "And what might those be?" she said sweetly.

"Our war plan relies on our troops being fresh, and their's being weakened by the war." He said, "My men fight well, but they are up against veterans. They will need to be motivated beyond loyalty to a long dead king. They will fight for me well, but only if they believe in the cause I set them to enact."

Ser Barristan looked irritated, "Perhaps you would care to elaborate?"

Doran frowned, "My men have no love for the Targareyans. They suffered under the last Targareyan king, as they suffer under this Baratheon king. And they do not forget what Rhaegar did?"

_What Rhaegar did? He was a sweet, kindly prince, who love his people as his people loved him, _"Which is?"

"Beg your pardon, your grace, but I remember the death of Elia well. As many men who blamed Tywin there were, many blamed Rhaegar Targaryen for betraying her love for the Stark girl." Obara intruded.

Daenerys tried to understand, "So how would you wish us remedy that?" She scarcely believed them.

Prince Doran suddenly made his move, "We must right the wrong the people see. For that, you must marry a Dornishmen, as a sign of respect and an effort to further the relations between us and the throne."

Ser Barristan leered at that, "And who would you say that would be?"

"That would be me," answered Quentyn.

_This is nonsensical. I need to marry where my supporters are more tentative than here. The Dornish love me, they will fight to see me on the throne._ "I am humbled by your offer, my prince, but I think that unwise." she answered kindly as she could.

Quentyn suddenly frowned, his mask falling, but Doran spoke soothingly, "I understand, your grace," he said with a sad smile, "We will fight for your reign nonetheless, but we are disappointed."

Quentyn looked as if he would shout, but instead his father said firmly, "Do not worry, my son. We will find you a fine wife. For now though, I believe we should make for war."

"Yes," ser Barristan agreed, "We have 1500 elite soldiers with us, and, with your fleet, we have another 10,000 that we can call from Meereen, though it will take a long while."

Obara nodded, "Perhaps it would be best if you rode to the Boneway, then? We can combine our armies for the campaign."

Ser Barristan nodded, "We will send them immediately, leaving an honor guard to defend her grace." Obara nodded, affirming the plan.

The dornish prince then signaled a servant, who brought in a wine goblet, "I believe we have discussed what we must discuss. I apologize for the intrusion, but I must sleep. My age wears me in many ways. I bid you good day, your grace, and hope to find you well in the morning."

The Targaryen councilors followed their liege back to her personal apartments. Before they entered, Ser Barristan gave an order to Grey Worm, who nodded, and left the direction the unsullied camps. When they entered, Barristan closed the door quickly, and walked to the farthest corner of the room, near a window that looked over the palace grounds, making for a beautiful scene of Dorne. He signaled for Daenerys to follow him. She did, and finally sat down next to him. He spoke in barely a whisper, "I do not trust Doran."

Daenerys looked somewhat taken aback, "But, he has barely done anything but be kindly to us."

"Yes," Barristan agreed, "Even after you spurned his son's advances. Doran is not a man to be taken lightly, your grace. And he has not been acting normally."

"Are you certain?" Daenerys hadn't detected anything along those lines at all. He had seemed a kindly old man who wished the best for her and the kingdoms.

"I wouldn't say this if I wasn't." he looked more frightened than shes ever seen him, "I've ordered Grey Worm to send the soldiers away from the palace, but not to leave until I send him to them. If anything happens, they won't be far."

"Ser Barristan, I appreciate your concern, but I think it a bit ridiculous." Daenerys said, kindly, "They wouldn't dare attack me, not with my dragons so near their..." she was cut off when she suddenly saw a silhouette of a man appear for a flash, but unmistakably making his way to the soldier's camps. _No, not the soldiers._

"Ser Barristan!" she said, pointing towards the pens.

Ser Barristan looked, then understood, and rose as quickly as he could, "We need to go, now!" he ran out of the room, taking her by the arm, drawing his sword.

Daenerys called out for Grey Worm to run to the Dragons in High Valyrian, before long she found herself outside, running towards the makeshift wooden pen. Then she heard the sound of a dragon's scream, before it was suddenly cut off.

When she arrived, she found her honor guard had begun to engage a small group of dornish. They fought wildly, and behind them Daenerys saw her dragons, all of them caged and tied down by countless heavy chains, apparently caught when they were sleeping, Drogon and Viserion struggling ferociously against the chains.. She saw her soldiers stream in, struggling to reach a loaded ballista, which was manned by a half dozen Martell soldiers.

It was then that Daenerys found the source of the scream. Rhaegal had blood pouring out of his eye, a ballista lodged so deep that it buried itself so only the very tail could be seen. "RHAEGAL!" she cried, tears suddenly coming to her face. The dragons suddenly struggled harder against their chains.

The battle disappeared to her, suddenly the only thing that existed was the ballista and her children. She ran forward, unarmed, and her guard closed around her, fighting the dornish, killing them in slews. Eventually she found herself at the base of the ballista, and she ran to block the bolt from her child. But she was too late. The ballista bolt flew, and she watched, time slowing, as the bolt entered her child's eye socket, finding its way into the brain.

She ran to her child's fallen body, watching it in it's dying throws, sobbing "Viserion! No, not you too!"

The battle raged on, Grey Worm and Ser Barristan standing guard over her as her troops were finally close enough to prevent the Ballista from firing. She rose again, hate in her eyes, and she ran towards the ballista, ser Barristan handing her a short sword as she ran. When she arrived, the ballista's empty quiver pointing at her heart, she saw a familiar and hated face.

Quentyn Martell smiled, and said, "Konir sagon daor daria" _There will be no queen._ Daenerys raised a sword to strike him, but suddenly was thrust backwards. She felt pain, as she staggered onto the ground, the sight of Quentyn Martell holding an empty crossbow looming over her. She looked down at the source of the pain, and she saw red staining her white gown, a bolt in her lower abdomen. She struggled to stand up, when suddenly she heard a cry, and behind her was the vision of Drogon, coated in snapped chains. Ser Barristan picked her up, and the dragon's mouth spout fire at Quentyn's form, leaving nothing but a pile of ash. The dragon lowered his neck next to daenerys, who in turn motioned for ser Barristan to place her on his back.

The great drake rose into the air, and she felt the beast fly into the sky. Her vision turned black, as she saw the dragonfire consuming the Martell palace, before only seeing the dark sands of the desert, which faded away slowly.

Then she blacked out.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

Before anyone says "Oh you can't just kill a dragon like that!" the last time dragons invaded, that's how the dornish killed one of them. It as meant to be a symbolic gesture to the rest of the kingdoms, to say loudly that they were no longer part of the Iron Throne, which, obviously, didn't end well.

For anyone who's wondering "What? Why? How?" I think, one, I made it pretty clear this time but then I thought that with the wedding so here's the explanation:

Doran Martell, as we saw, wanted to get rid of Daenerys for good. He constructed an elaborate scheme to make it look like he was away, when he was secretly plotting how to kill the dragons. He ordered the attack, which Quentyn ran to join hastily, giving away the attack plans. (He was the silhouetto of a man) The rest was a sneak attack, that the assembled Dornish guards fought to keep under control. If anyone is wondering, yes, Doran would not be stupid enough to still be in the palace during the attack.

To Saint River: One can hope

To Danceegirl92: Yeah, I mentioned that in the last Robb chapter. He was found with a knife in his back just outside the sally port which was what let the baddies in.

To Ojha: What would the ship name for that be? Robbaerion? Taergarobb? Mariobb?

To Master of Dragons God: Thanks!


	35. Jon IV

**Jon**

"So there I was," began the tall, dark, Karstark man, speaking loudly to the half dozen men sitting around him to combat the roaring of the waves and the distraction of the lamps swinging back and forth along the walls, "Fighting towards Moat Cailin. I saw this massive giant leading the way for us to the ironborn, and we was stopped near the hilltop when the Ironborn attacked. I was right there, next to white wolf's guard, when I sees the big hulk of an Ironborn show up."

"Must've been terrifying," a dark haired skeptic sitting in a dark corner said. He was here often, though the other men weren't, only having been driven here by the slick deck after the day's seemingly ceaseless rain. Though it was not ceaseless, and had let up by now, though clouds loomed ominously, covering the sea in darkness.

"I wasn' scared, right?" he defended himself, "Anyway, this giant comes up, and the Greyjoy makes to charge 'em. I think to myself, well, I have to defend my prince, and all that." He continued, "And so I run forward, and I stab at him, with his giant axe 'n all. Only turns out, He wasn't dead, and he makes to kill me, when the giant runs up, and in a blink of an eye" he clapped for effect, "It was the prince 'is own self. 'E shows up right behind the greyjoy, and 'e runs at him wit' 'is sword. Then the giant, right, e's been huting bad, so 'e couldn't think right, so I climb onto 'is back and I tell 'im 'Hit the squid bastard!' and 'e throws 'own 'is club and kills the bastard!" he said with a triumphant fist.

Then the skeptic spoke again, "If you were there and all, why didn't the White Wolf give you a knightship?"

The man looked blank for a moment, "I... uh... well I fell off the giant and all, and he didn't see me."

"Indeed? And how did you know following the giant would let you protect the prince?" The dark haired man said from the dark corner.

"I..." he looked panicked, and the other men laughed at his misfortune. _They had been telling similar stories too, he was the one who got unlucky, _"I saw the prince's direwolf running into battle, and I followed that."

"Then why did you say you followed the giant?"

The man went from panic to anger, "Because it was bigger is why. The wolf was falling behind and all, what with the giant being so fast."

"Ghost is not a slow creature, and I thought he was always by his master's side when he was in danger."

The man stood up, and brandished a knife, "Who the hell do you think you are?" he asked, as the other man stood up to hold him back. He got through them, and was almost on the stranger, when a growl was heard throughout the cabin. The man's face whitened, and he turned to see Ghost's barred fangs.

The man left the shadow, saying to the frightened man, "I think I am Prince Jon Stark of th North, and that it would be wise to drop that knife of yours."

There was a clatter as the knife hit the floor, and suddenly all the other men in the cabin were kneeling. He turned to see them, then hurriedly copied the gesture, muttering as fast as he could, "I'm so sorry your grace please spare my life your grace I hadn't known it was you I'm so sorry your grace please don't..."

But Jon interrupted him with a wry smile, "Next time you decide to tell tall tales, my friend, make sure to do it well outside earshot of those who know the truth." and he walked out of the room, and headed to the deck.

When he arrived, he found a new battle companion waiting to see him. His name was Tor Kur Doh Droh Gar and he was the giant who slew Victarion Greyjoy. After that battle, which included the death of Mag the Mighty, more giants joined his army, and they had made Tor Thunderfoot their leader. The giant was also unique because he spoke shaky common tongue, enough that simple conversations were had, though often he required the help of Tormund to actually speak for full conversations.

"Prince Crow," The giant greeted him, "We kill soon?" he asked.

"Aye," Jon said slowly, so the Giant could decode the words, "Tonight."

Tormund Giantsbane found his way through the ship, looking ill, "The earth isn't meant to move! Damn this miserable boat." he spat before looking at Jon and the Giant, "Are you ready, Prince Crow?"

Jon nodded, and turned to a sailor who was working a line near him, "Go tell the captain to give the signal to split the fleet."

The sailor nodded, then scampered off to deliver the order. The giant grunted, "We will kill squids." The giant smiled, and Tormund laughed, and said something in the old tongue, which made the giant laugh more.

Jon thought on the coming battle. _It's a good plan, and we have everything in place to make it work._ The Redwyne admiral told him that the Ironborn would want to fight in Lordsport Harbor, which gave them ample room to navigate and fight them. He said that they would win, but not without many lost soldiers, and then the invasion of Lordsport and siege of Pyke would be even more costly. While many of his men were willing to fight the battle, Jon thought that a terrible plan. So he had a different idea, they would attack the castle directly with a small, elite force on less than a dozen ships. Then, when the fortress was taken, they would signal for the attack on Lordsport to begin, and the Ironborn would be crushed on all sides.

He saw the dishonor in such an act, and while he felt every amount of hate he could muster towards the Ironborn, he knew that he could not lower Stark men to the same gruesome acts the Lannister took part in shortly before. So he, incredibly deliberately and with no faltering, ordered that in the attack, his men were to kill no one unarmed, and that anyone who surrendered would not be harmed as soon as they dropped their weapons. He was certain the knew of the coming assault and had taken every precaution to keep the women, children, and otherwise unable safe from harm, likely in a holdfast somewhere. Regardless, he needed to be certain they would do nothing dishonorable outside of acts of war. _I may be half a Stark, but I am Stark still._

He had the main force led by Lord Howland Reed, a dark man who every time Jon saw him was as dutiful as any other northerner, but every so often he would see a sad smile appear on his face. After the Black Wedding, Lord Reed had decided to stay with Jon, and his own army went with Robb's. Jon would lead the elite force himself. The Redwynes had not liked the plan, only because it involved half of the giants being indisposed for the battle, getting rid of a major advantage they had, but they had come to accept it.

Jon waited on the deck, watched as the captain ordered all the lights to be put out, and saw the giants carefully string their bows. In the darkness, finally, they saw the fortress of Pyke. It was huge, it's five keeps jutting out into the sea, it's dark form looming over the horizon.

The captain ordered the ships to lay anchor, and before long the force climbed into 3 dozen small rowing ships, each flat bottomed and brought close to the walls of the castle. The giants each got their own boat, and around each one four smaller ships surrounded them, as was carefully instructed to the men on each boat. The ships were brought under the stone causeways that connected two of the keeps, and the giants carefully adjusted their weights, loading in their bows massive, hook headed arrows, each attached to a long cord.

Jon stood on his ship, Ghost next to him, and lit a single torch. Suddenly a great twanging came up from the boats, and the arrows found their way into the covered bridge, the unmistakable sound of them grinding into the stone was heard. The giant's ships went backwards from the force, and the men began scampering up the thick cords, Jon leading the way on one bridge, Tormund on another. Ghost ran up the slippery rocks of the tower, intent on following his master into battle.

It took a long while to reach the top, but when they arrived, Jon carefully slipped over the guardrail, and found a dozen other men already there. Jon nodded at them, and they suddenly took up a mighty yell, and stormed into the nearest keep. The men charged in and the battle began against the guards who were on duty near every bridge entrance. Jon ran into the hall, dodging an axe blow, and ending the wielder of the axe with a simple slash of his blade.

Jon's men streamed into the hall, as did more Ironborn guards. Jon took the opprotunity to judge his surroundings. He was in the third keep from the shore, and saw it was relatively well furnished, from what he had heard of Ironborn styles. _The bloody keep, then._

Jon took up a battle shout, and ran towards the opposite side of the keep. _We must get to the Lord's keep._ The melee took place in narrow halls and rain-slick passages. He saw his men stream into the capillaries of the keep, while many others followed him, and he shouted, "Surrender and you shall live!" when he reached the center of the Great Hall. He knew the Ironborn guards wouldn't, but he was more concerned with reminding his men of his orders.

He fought on, his sword slashing necks, his direwolf gnawing his way against those who meant to take him unawares. Before long, the shut, oaken doors to the next bridge were in front of him. Three wildlings took the opportunity to ram into the doors with all of their strength, which threw the door of its hinges, revealing the rope bridge to the final tower, a group of Ironborn rushing across it to reinforce their fellows.

Jon lead the charge, Ghost next to him. The first Ironborn made a careless swing for his head, which he dodged with a quick movement, then using Longclaw to gut the hapless man. The next man tried to press an attack, but ghost jumped on him, causing the bridge to sway violently before the wolf fell back to it, the man's neck gashed open. The next Ironborn meant to charge him, but a thrown knife stuck out of him before he could make it to the Prince. Then the last Ironborn, who wielded a huge, kraken decorated shield charged him. He dodged a well placed axe strike, but a shield bash connected with his head. Ghost tried to pounce on the warrior, but he used his shield to block the effort. _Not he, she._

Jon regained his footing as best he could on the slippery surface, and came eye to eye with Asha Greyjoy. He feigned a blow, but Asha saw it and gained the advantage, using her axe to force Jon farther and farther back towards the keep. Jon made a fast cut for her neck, but she used her shield to block the blow, sending Jon into the rope railing and letting her run past him. _She means to signal the rest of the Ironborn._

"Stop her!" he called behind him, but he saw she had already deftly danced her way into the keep. He turned back to the tower, and ran towards the end, careful not to slip. He arrived at the door, Ghost at his side, and, with Ghost's help, knocked the door open. He was greeted a dozen more guards, and he fought valiantly as his own men came to join long, the entrance of the tower was stained with blood. He found a staircase, and ran up it. There were more guards there, but he eventually made his way to the Lord's rooms, where a half dozen guards were prepared for his arrival. The first he distracted with a precise feint, while Ghost tackled him from the side.

Another charged him, and he parried the first blow that was sent his way, precisely countering by letting his blade slid off the axe as he rolled past him, backing towards the wall. The Ironborn tried to charge him, when suddenly an unexpected face cut him down, "Tormund?" Jon was startled when wildlings matched the numbers of the Ironborn and extended the melee.

"Couldn't let you have all the fun, White Wolf." he shouted. The two men fought back to back, and before long the Ironborn were all slain. More Ironborn attacked from the staircase, apparently rushing to save their liege-lord, but Jon decided to storm the lord's solar. He ran in, sword in hand, while Ghost fought off the encroaching Ironborn.

Standing in armor that was too tight for him was the ancient figure of Balon Greyjoy, carrying a great axe, standing in front of an upturned table, with chairs scattered around the room.. Jon charged him, and the two men clashed with a mighty crash. Balon was fast for his age, and was clearly once a great fighter, but Jon was faster and greater.

Balon was being pushed farther and farther backwards, towards the windows facing the shore that lined the , Jon saw a chink in his defence, and made a stab for his heart, but Balon sprung his trap, bringing his axe head down, pinning Longclaw to the sword. The old man smiled, "What is dead may never die, bastard."

"Aye, but you're not dead yet." Jon agreed.

Jon pulled Longclaw along the length of the haft. Balon tried to parry Jon's final stab to his gut, but found his axe headless, Longclaw having sliced through the haft. The man looked at the blade in his chest, and Jon kicked the Ironborn off of his blade, his broken form falling out of the window, into the distant sound of the sea. Jon looked out of the window, and saw Balon Greyjoy's body bleeding on the rocks. He grimaced before he looked up to see a huge fire lit on top of the gate keep.

Jon ran out of the room to see Tormund killing the last of the guards in the keep, "We need to send the signal, now!" he demanded, pointing to the light of the distant fire.

Tormund nodded, and brought the remaining three men with him as they ran up the flights of stairs towards the roof. Jon looked back to the window, then decided to follow them. When he arrived, the signal arrow was lit and flew through the early dawn light, marking the beginning of the attack. But Jon could see the approaching army of Ironborn's torches abandoning the distant Lordsport, rushin to retake the castle._We'll be outnumbered._

Despite his worry, Jon couldn't but think how beautiful the dawn looked from the tower. He looked at the ocean, away from the land, and could see rays of light pierce through the heavy cloud cover. THen he noticed something he didn't expect in the distance.

A dark figure snaked in and out of the clouds, but Jon couldn't quite make out what it was. "Prince Crow?" came Tormund's voice noticing his gaze. Jon turned to face him, "What should we do?"

Jon looked at the army approaching the keep, "We're going to be outnumbered many times over soon. There's no way we can defeat that army with what we have here."

A northmen suddenly appeared in the staircase from the tower. He knelt in front of the prince, "Your grace, we've secured the great keep, and we've kept all the unarmed safe, like you said."

Jon nodded, "Tell the men to retreat to the Bloody Keep, and to prepare the defence. The Ironborn army is coming, and we have to hold until Lord Reed can save us."

"Of course your grace," the man winced, "do you think we can hold for long enough?" Jon said nothing, and only looked grimly at the soldier, who sighed and replied, "I shall leave at..." suddenly his eyes widened.

Tormund raised an eyebrow, "What is it, kneeler?"

The man pointed at the sky behind Jon, "What in the seven hells is _**that**_?"

Jon turned to see a black shape dip below the clouds, huge leathery wings flapping as it glided down, towards the shore. _A dragon?_

Jon watched as the shape flew away from Pyke, into the fog around Lordsport. Then he saw a great flame appear, so bright it outshone al other lights. It rained down on the port and ran the way to the torches of the Ironborn, consuming them all in a great blaze. Jon knew he had to get his men out before they were all killed, or else kill the beast. _How the hell do you kill that?_

He turned to his men, "Into the Bloody Keep. Now!" Tormund looked too stunned to speak, "Fire can't burn stone!" _But dragonfire burnt Harrenhal._

The men looked ready to run into the tower, but hesitated when Tormund stood still. "Tormund, my friend, we need to go!" Jon shouted.

Tormund shook his head, then looked at Jon, "I don't think we can kill that."

Jon looked grimly, then put his hand on his commander's shoulder, "Anything that bleeds can die."

Tormund hesitated, "_Can_ it bleed?" _I hope so._

"Your grace!" the messenger cried pointing into the sky. Jon's head shot around in time to see the great black figure fly shockingly fast at them. The men scrambled into the tower as fast as they could, but only two could hide within before the beast landed on the structure, giving a great roar when he did so.

Ghost growled at the beast, but Jon sheated Longclaw. Tormund looked at him, "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"You suppose I fight that with a _sword?_" Jon asked sardonically. Ghost followed close to him as he walked towards the dragon. To his shock, the beast merely lowered it's neck as he came closer, and as Jon made the final steps to it, Ghost suddenly started barking at the silver haired figure laying on it.

Jon looked at the men, "There's a woman on it." after a quick inspection, Jon saw the bolt protruding the woman's abdomen, "She's been wounded!" Jon ran up to take woman in his arms, the dragon allowing him to do so. He quickly looked, and gave a sigh of relief when he saw the woman was still breathing.

He turned to his dumbfounded men, who looked fearfully at the figure, "Tormund, find a healer. If ours died in the fighting, check if there's one left in the castle. You," he said looking at the rest of the men, carefully handing her to one of the more burly looking ones, "Get her into a bed, and make sure she's comfortable. Gods only know if she was riding that dragon, what the beast would d should someone hurt her."

Tormund looked wild eyed at Jon, "And what will you be doing?"

"I'm going to finish this battle. Now go!" Jon commanded as he rushed down the stairs. When he reached the gatehouse bridge, he saw his banner flying proudly over the conquered castle.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

Last battle for a while, I think. Next chapter will be Daenerys, for, I believe, fairly obvious reasons. For everyone wondering, 'Huh? Dragon? But why?' patience, my friends. All will be revealed in time. Regardless, I think the mechanics of this fight make sense. There was Jon godmoding on the bridges for a while, but in one on one combat against unsuspecting guardsmen when the crack troops are waiting for a fight nearby, I think it makes sense Jon would be able to play through a few of them fairly easily, especially in the one on one combat scene on the bridge. But, if you think he was still way too overpowered, I agree. But honestly, this chapter would have been very boring without a little combat to spice it up.

To Master of Dragons God: I hope you find this one as interesting as the last.

To Ruci: Yes and no. Doran, in this instance, had no intention of killing any of the Targaryen soldiers, only the dragons. Dragons, as they are beasts, are not protected by the sacred rule of hospitality. It would be questionable, yes, but Doran has been planning that since the minute he arrived. He also was deliberate in not sending Martells into the fray, so he could claim it was a conspiracy he was not a part of. Obviously, Quentyn, in his rage, failed to follow through on his father's orders. It's important that he is dornish, as well. The Rhoynar were never as picky with the rule of hospitality as the First Men were, so it's less likely there would be backlash. Furthermore, because Dany is more or less unknown, he has ample ability to claim that she attacked his men after the dragons attacked them and his men tried to stop them from destroying their homes. Basically, he has no shortage of excuses because he didn't attack people, at least not at first.

You're right on Doran's patience being his greatest asset, but he knew in this case that he needed to take the opportunity to kill the dragons while he had it. He had no intention of fighting in the rest of westeros if he could help it, and if he wanted the bid for independence to work, he needed the dragons to be killed immediately. Also, I love the Avatar reference. Seriously, that's my favorite show, I think ever.

As for the political fallout, Robb is aware, and he began to experience that with Dacey. However, I think, given all the actions of Tyrion, I think the northmen would be merely grumbly as opposed to outright rebellious. That isn't to say there won't be some mention of this, nor that Robb won't address it soon. Tyrion will have to prove himself before Robb's men if he is to prevent his own demise.


	36. Daenerys IV

**Daenerys**

She heard the distant sound of voices. A brief discussion between two men, she thought. There was more sounds of talking, but she couldn't make out anything they said. She tried to move, but found any command she gave her body was met with pain. She tried to open her eyes, but when she did, she saw nothing. So instead, she merely strained her ears to hear what was being said.

She heard mumbles, but eventually she could make out the voices. One belonged to an older man, the other to a young man, the older man's voice was too distant to hear, but she heard the young man say, "She needs rest for now. I will tell his grace the moment she wakes up."

There was more murmuring from the other man, before the young man said, "Yes, I am certain she is getting better. Her breathing is improving with each day. For now she merely needs rest."

There was the sound of a shutting door, loudly ringing in her ears, startling her eyes to finally open fully. The old man gasped, and she tried to lift herself again, but failed as a sharp strike of pain that rose through her side. The man spoke quietly, "You mustn't strain yourself. Here, let me help." the old man helped prop her up, so she could take in her surroundings.

She was in a grey, stone walled room, with wooden floors and ceilings being the only sign of color, outside of the few, duly brown pieces of wooden furniture, and her bed, which was covered in a black sheet. The sun entered through a series of windows, and she could smell the salty scent of the sea. The sound of waves crashing echoed in her ears. The man in front of her was brown haired, with pale, northern skin. He had kind, almond eyes, and a long scar that ran across his face, hooking around his left eye. The scar did not help his looks, which were insubstantial to begin with.

She tried to speak, but her voice was hoarse, "Wh... where am I?" she managed after a while.

The man frowned, "You are in the castle of Pyke, once the seat of house Greyjoy of the Iron Isles, now conquered by Prince Jon Stark of the North."

_Stark? Jon... why can't I remember?_ "Who are you?"

The man smiled sadly. He had a face that seemed used to sad smiles, "I am just a healer. My name is Bael Magnar, though it won't matter to you."

"How...long?"

"Have you been here?" he finished for her. She nodded, and he answered, "Three days. You arrived in the middle of the battle." she nodded, trying to decode what he said, "Now, I'm afraid I need to ask you a few questions, if you are up for it."

Daenerys agreed, and the man started with a medical examination. He pricked her feet, and was glad to see her wince at both points. He asked her to move her arms, which she did, though not without pain. Finally he inspected her stomach, where a wound was patched and covered in salve. He carefully replaced the bandage, and she winced at the sting of fresh salve. Finally he asked her about her memories, "What is your name?" he began.

Daenerys was going to answer, but hesitated. _There's something wrong with all of this, I can't trust him,_ "Elia Waters." she finally answered.

The man raised an eyebrow, "Who were your parents?"

"A nobleman of house Velaryon, and a whore." she answered quickly, "I don't know the man's name, but my mother was named Haela. She died when I was young." a poor lie, she realized as soon as she had said it.

"House Velaryon? I can't quite remember... Remind me, for memories sake, what their coat of arms is again?" the man asked with another smile.

She tried to remember, but the stabbing pain kept her from remembering, _A mermaid? A mer... something _"A mermaid" she eventually decided.

The man's sad smile flickered for a second, before resolving back into it's true form. _He knows I'm lying._ "Very good, do you remember how you got here?"

She tried to recall. There was smoke, and the sounds of dragon cries, and ser Barristan... "My children!" she suddenly exclaimed, sitting upright, ignoring the pain, "Where are my children?"

The man hushed her and pushed her back into a recline, "My lady, who are your children? We can have them sent here immediately, if that's what you wish." he added, trying to be helpful. But now Daenerys remembered, she remembered watching her dragons fall, remembered watching Quentyn be consumed by dragonfire. She would weep, but she was too tired. Instead she simply allowed the man to recline hr back to her bed, where she could languish in her misery, "My Lady," he said sweetly, "You must rest." he brought some soup in a bowl and motioned for her to eat it, which she did with his help.

She took a few bites of soup, before managing to ask, "My dragon. Where?"

The man pointed out the window to a high keep. She hadn't noticed the view of the land, but now that she could see the three keeps of Pyke soaring like pillars from the sea, jutting out from the land, she couldn't help but be impressed. It wasn't elegant like Pentos, nor particularly magnificent like Meereen, but it was impressive, as if nature itself couldn't fight the raw determination of man in building those castles. She noticed above all of them flew the direwolf banner, save the one he pointed at, which had a bare roof, "He has taken up residence there, the Bloody Keep. We know he has been fishing great beasts from the sea for food, and has been seen burning the Ironborn's ships."

_Why would my dragon kill my subjects without my leave? Why would he even bring me here?_ "Why did he bring me here?" she asked herself so low she thought only she could hear it.

"I was going to ask you the same question, no doubt his grace will as well." the man commented.

"What happened?" she asked him.

"Well," he said, frowning at her lack of memory, "The Ironborn were here to defend their homes from the North's vengeance. Prince Jon's host had been fighting them out of the North, and had destroyed the better part of their armies, when he went south for the king's wedding. After the tragedy, the Redwyne fleet arrived in Seaguard, which prevented the Ironborn from continuing their assault on the Reach. The prince loaded his men on their ships and attacked here." he paused, before continuing into the details of the battle, "He tricked the Ironborn into thinking he would face them in a direct battle in the harbor of Lordsport. Instead, he led a small team in an attack against this fortress, from beneath the bridges."

"How did he scale those?" Dany asked looking at the great distance between the bridges and the water.

"He and his men used grapples on the ends of arrows. Shot by the giants, of course." _Giants? The world has gone mad._ "Regardless, he scaled the fortress and began taking it. He ordered his men to keep the innocent alive, and for the most part they did, though more than a few servants were raped before long. He killed Balon Greyjoy in personal combat, but the others had called the rest of the Ironborn to save the castle. That's when your dragon arrived, my lady." he said with a slight smile.

"The dragon destroyed the Ironborn army, and half of Lordsport. Those who survived, ran at the sight of the beast. When Lord Howland Reed of Greywater Watch arrived with the main army in Lordsport, the battle had already been won." he looked wistfully, "I do not know all of the details, I'm afraid. I was with the main part of the fleet, so I only watched the dragon swoop onto Lordsport and dragonfire blaze against the night sky. When we disembarked in the smoking village, the men started committing atrocities I won't be getting into. A man came asking for a healer, and I volunteered."

He offered her another bite of soup, and she accepted. After swallowing, she remarked, "You're very young for a maester, or a healer anyway."

He chuckled, "You're right that I am no maester. No, as a child I enjoyed helping people get well. Homemade salves on light cuts that I more thought helped then actually did, splinting small animal's broken limbs, that sort of thing. Like I said, I'm no maester, but by the time an actual maester could be found, he said he could do no more than I could at this point, and the prince ordered me stay here to attend you, so his own men could be helped."

Daenerys thought about this, "It must of been helpful, having such a useful profession from such a young age."

He chuckled again, but more sadly, "My father certainly didn't think so. He prefered my brother's more... physical capabilities."

Daenerys knew better than to continue asking, leaving a lingering silence in the room, that was only broken by a knock on the door. Bael answered the door, and in came two young girls, a tall brunette and short blonde. _Servants, most likely, though they are hardly properly dressed. But, then, the Ironborn were not known for their love of luxury,_ "My Lord, the lady needs to be dressed to see the prince." said the brunette.

He turned to see them and frowned, "She cannot be moved, she is in much too fragile a state." he declared.

The women looked at each other, before the blonde one said, "The prince means to meet her here, my Lord. We were just sent to give you the message, and to dress the lady of course."

He looked as if he would fight, but instead gave in, "Very well, I will be in the adjoining room if you need me."

Both women nodded, and the kind man left the room. They looked at one another and moved Daenerys, a light dress in hand. It was clear they were inexperienced in the task of dressing another, as they accidentally prodded her a few too many times with unwary fingers. The Brunette's hand went to close to her wound, and she winced in pain, "I am sorry my lady. Most dress themselves in Pyke." she commented drily.

"Aye, but this one has to look good for the _prince_." the other said slyly.

_I don't like what she seems to be implying._ Daenerys would not give herself to the prince. The dragon does not whimper before the wolf, "What is it this prince is like?" she tried in her most innocent voice she could muster.

"Oh, the greenlander is excited!" the brunette commented.

"Aye, ye' can hardly blame her. I'd let 'im 'ave me." the blonde replied.

Daenerys was not amused by the implication, "I've not been to the North before. What are northerners like?" she tried again.

"In bed or how?" The blonde asked quickly, and the brunette burst into laughter.

Daenerys gave up, and the two finished with her clothing before long. They left with more giggles, muttering something about silver salt and wives, and the door opened once more to reveal Bael and are dark haired, armored man. He was leanly built, about her age, she figured, with dark grey eyes and a grimace that sent the worst kind of chill through her.

Bael coughed, "Your grace, Elia Waters." he introduced her.

The man raised an eyebrow, and sat in a chair near the bed, then waved a hand to dismiss the healer with a "Thank you, Lord Magnar." in a gravelly voice.

"I am no Lord, your grace." he corrected with his trademark sad smile.

She caught sight of a wolf's head on top of the sword that clung to his side, which distracted her a moment before she blurted out, "Your grace."

"My Lady," he replied, taking the chance to examine her. His eyes ran across her features, as if trying to make sense of them. He introduced himself, "I am Jon Stark, heir and prince of the North. Brother of Robb Stark, King in the North."

"A pleasure." she tried.

He grunted in response, then said, "You saved many of the men here's lives."

She was cautious in her response, "I don't..."

"No," he interrupted, holding up a hand, cool demeanor not lifting, "What I meant to say was, thank you, but, why?"

Daenerys was puzzled at the answer to that as well, but tried, "I was injured from a wild arrow. I needed help, and my dragon sensed that. He saved you to ensure my safety."

The man's head was still, contemplating what she had said, "Where?"

"The Riverlands." she lied. _It was close to the Isles, so it would do._

"Who would be fool enough to fire an arrow at a woman with a dragon?" he asked.

She shrugged, "Bandits? I couldn't see. My brother put me on Drogon and I fainted."

The man frowned, paused for a while longer more, than said, in a voice filled with resolve, "I was a sworn brother of the night's watch. I went beyond the wall, destroyed an army many times my own in strength at the gates of Castle Black. I killed the Ironborn who plagued my homeland, led an army of wildlings, giants, and castaways. I've seen many things..." he trailed off in memory, then snapped back to her, "And I don't like being lied to, my lady." She felt another chill run through her. _He truly has seen too much. _He spoke once more, his voice ice, "Tell me the truth: who are you?"

"I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Queen of Meereen, rightful ruler of the seven kingdoms." she suddenly declared with all the power she could muster. _I won't whimper before him like some injured child._

His frown deepened, before he said, "Why are you here?"

"I was attacked, injured. I climbed onto the back of my dragon and flew here." she replied.

He leaned back in his chair, as if his suspicions were confirmed, "What happened to your other ones?"

Se was stunned, "How did you..."

"Know about you?" echoed Prince Stark, "I was in Riverrun after the wedding. We found a number of letters in the castle from Lannister senders, all mismarked, of course. Among them was one sent to one of the Martell guards, asking for his house's allegiance against you, should you invade. Oberyn Martell told us it was ridiculous to think that the dornish would sooner support the Lannisters than the Targaryens, or would rather the Targaryens than be independent."

She nearly spat, but when she tried her side flared in another burst of unbearable pain, "Curse the Martells." she raged.

He raised an eyebrow, "So it was the Martells who attacked you."

She scowled at him, "Every one of you are traitors." she spat at him, "You are the usurpers dogs. Now that your master is dead you bite at each other." Suddenly she heard a low growl.

"I would be careful, your grace," he said heatedly, as she struggled to turn to see the massive white beast that had strode into the room, "You have very few friends left. It would be a shame for you to die on Pyke."

"You can't kill me," she argued back, but her resolve was failing at the sight of the wolf, "My dragon would destroy your whole army, kill you with it."

"But if I let you live, you will kill my brother. It would be honorable to die here, then let my brother die for me."

She shook her head wildly, "You're bluffing. Your reputation reveals your value, White Wolf." she felt the need to bite back, so she added, "Even if you are an oathbreaker and a bastard."

He glared at her, his hate finally showing through his mask, "You are a fool, Targaryen. Your alone on your dragon and expect it to save you, but it can't."

Daenerys was thrown back. Between the pain and the verbal assault and the grief she felt all too recently, she finally found the strength to cry. She wept for her children, and her husband, and her betrayal, and her protector, ser Barristan, and for all the lost causes and false promises she'd been given. She lost all feeling for a long while, didn't think about the enemy in front of her Finally she felt a hand on hers. She looked up into the dark gray eyes of Prince Jon, "You need rest." he said with finality.

"They're dead," she said between heavy sniffs, "My children..."

"Your dragons?" he asked, clearly trying to sound kinder than he had earlier.

She nodded, then found her strength failing again and her weight fell harder against the headboard of the bead. She spoke in a hoarse voice, "I've lost everything..."

He said nothing, merely rose from his seat on the bed. He stared out the window at the bloody keep, before quietly saying, "You shouldn't be here." She tearfully looked at him, while he continued, "It's not safe. As soon as you're well, I'll send you to Riverrun. You'll be safe there."

"So I'm to be your prisoner?" she asked angrily.

He looked at her carefully. It wasn't the same as before, though, there was something different about the way he study her, "Where else would you go?" he asked, before turning and leaving the room.

Daenerys buried her head in the uncomfortable pillows, choking her sadness into them.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

Gaahhhh... I don't like this one. The only reason I'm publishing it is because, well, I need to explain what happens here. I really don't like Jon in this one. I was trying to show how cold and untrusting the war has made him, but he came off as... different somehow. Daenerys I thought was okay. I'd really like suggestions on this one to improve it, so I can go back and fix the characterization.

On a lighter note, this story's reached 100 reviews, 100 followers (+4), and 63 favorites (+3)! Thanks everyone!

Next is Robb (Hope you guys are excited for northern politics)

To Guest: Thanks! Hope you like this follow up

To Quindecim: I hope you weren't too disappointed by this one. It'll get better, I promise.

To Master of Dragons God: While I understand there was a typo on your review, I'm glad you could wait cuz this one took _**forever**_ to finish

To Saint River: Well, you certainly can't argue it was an ineffective method, just an unexpected one. Granted, he didn't expect it either, but, uh, c'est la vie?

To Ojha: Thank you for being the 100th reviewer! Here's your customary 100 review reward gif: 8nPRwTr . gif (protip: use imgur)


	37. Robb V

**Robb**

Robb sat atop a raised throne, looking over his bannermen. He had called court today, and many of the remaining lords of the realm were in attendance. He was uncomfortable with everything: what he needed to say, what they would tell him, everything. But it must be done.

"I have gathered you here," he shouted over the din of the crowd, keeping his kingly voice in play. _This must be done properly,_ "To reveal my judgement of Tyrion Lannister."

Shouting suddenly came up over the crowd: "Imp!" from the uncreative ones, "He saved the princess, your grace, pardon him!" from those who sympathised, "Cut off the Imp's head!" from many northerners and Riverlanders who lost people that night, and even a few "Kingslayer"s from the more confused members of the audience. Robb raised a hand, and waited for silence.

"I also gathered you to discuss the events of the Black Wedding." he said, and the room remained quiet as he spoke again, "The Lannisters have broken sacred law, and we will have our vengeance against them."

Cheers followed the declaration, "Get me Tyrion Lannister."

The half man walked in with two guards in shining plate, "Lord Tyrion," Robb began, "Your family has committed heinous crimes against mine. They have falsely accused my father of treason, killed my brother, sister, and mother in cold blood. They unjustly killed hundred the night of a wedding." The crowd roared at the series of statements, and Dacey glared at them until they were quiet once more. "However, you have done none of these things. You saved princess Arya and princess Sansa, didn't betray your vow of honor after given a chance to free yourself. You gave the court valued information on the perpetrators behind the crime, and for that, I grant you leave to roam the halls of Riverrun freely." The guards released him, and the hall ran into an uproar. Robb heard a sword unsheath, and he yelled for silence.

Tytos Blackwood stepped forward. He was an intimidating presence, but well respected by the other bannermen. _I'm glad it's him who opposes me, so that I need fight this fight only once,_ "Your grace," he greeted, which Robb echoed with a 'Lord Blackwood', "While I respect your judgement, this is most unwise." Robb looked the man in the eye and nodded as he continued, "The Imp is a Lannister. His father will stop at nothing to regain his last son. His family has caused untold pain to us, your bannermen. They have killed many of your own, as you said. Whatever the virtues of this man, we should kill him to send a message to his father."

There was silence from the crowd, but before Robb could speak, Tyrion stepped up, "Excuse me, your grace, but you needn't sacrifice your word on my part." there was more shouting as he turned around to face the lords, "Lord Tytos, while I do understand your desire to see my head removed from the rest of me, I do believe you will find me most helpful."

The man scowled at him, "You've no right to speak to me like that, Imp."

Tyrion frowned, looked as if he would yell, but instead said, "Casterly Rock has a weakness in the cistern on the North side, near the sea. It's barely large enough for a man to get through it, but half a hundred paces in, it is large enough to have three men abreast. The sewers there lead into the hall of heros, giving plenty of room for an attack to win. Normally, during a siege, the drain covers would be lowered, but the cover for it doesn't quite reach the bottom. A man could easily lift it, if they were brave enough." before he finished speaking, the room was silent again.

"How do you know that?" asked Robb, surprised.

Tyrion turned to look at him, "Your grace, when I was sixteen, I was barred from seeing the free cities. Instead, my father decided to try and teach me decency by putting me in charge of the cisterns and drains of Casterly Rock. Now I can repay him the kindness." he added bitterly.

Robb nodded, making a mental note to send that knowledge to Willas' commanders, then looked at Lord Tytos, "I believe he may be of use to us yet, Lord Blackwood."

He nodded, "Yes, your grace. I'm sorry to have doubted you."

Robb turned to the crowd, "Anyone else wish to voice their complaints to the king before we reach the next order of business?" he paused, but no one spoke up, "Very well, bring me Lord Roose Bolton, and prepare the headsman's block.."

When the man was brought into the hall, he was dragged in by chains, and every lord shouted "Traitor!" and "Leech!" before he was finally brought before Robb, who again raised a hand to silence the crowd.

"Lord Bolton," he said firmly, "You betrayed the kingdoms by allowing the Lannisters passage away from Lord Umber's watchful eyes. You have been sentenced to death." Robb drew his sword. Robb stood, and the guards picked up Roose by either arm and brought him to the headsman's block, while the lordly procession followed behind. Eventually they arrived at the godswood, where Lord Roose was knelt over the block, and stared at Robb, who nearly spat, "Have you any last words?"

He snarled, and said, "Long live the king."

The steel blade cut his head off his body in a clean stroke. Robb turned to the assembled crowd, and said, "It is done." The lords cheered, and began to disperse, Robb himself deciding it best to return to his solar.

He found a familiar leather chair and sat in it, staring at the arrayed maps and battle plans. He looked, and found a servant waiting outside the door, asking him to bring wine. After a while, a knock came on the door, "Come in." Robb said.

Willas came into view, a grin on his face, "You've done well today, Robb." he opened. They had begun calling each other by first names shortly after the wedding. There was no need for honorifics between brother-kings.

"I hope so," Robb replied, somewhat dour, "Why've you come to see me?"

Willas laughed, "Can't I just want to say hello to a friend before they ride into battle?"

Robb couldn't help but grin a little at Willas' good nature, "I suppose you could. Though, somehow I doubt you are, given that you've been spending your free time with Princess Arianne."

Willas chuckled, and sat down at the table, "We've received some messages. Tarly has captured Deep den, and is preparing for the final stretch of the Westerlands. He's called for you to lead the charge against Casterly Rock yourself. Greatjon Umber has repelled Tywin Lannister from the riverlands, and is awaiting your orders for the final assault Stannis has begun another march to King's Landing, and the Queen has fled north with her sons to Duskendale."

Robb nodded grimly, "There seems little hope that I will lead another attack against Casterly Rock. Better I be there when we take King's Landing."

Willas nodded, "Yes, that was what I thought. There is other more... troubling news, Robb."

"Aye? What is it?" Robb inquired.

"Your brother has successfully captured Pyke, the castle, though half the Isle still remains unconquered, though is unlikely to be able to resist."

Robb smiled, "That's great! We'll capture the isles before long, at this rate."

"Yes, but that's not the issue," Willas said kindly, "Apparently, his original plan left him in a position where he would be vulnerable, but he was saved by, you'll never believe this, a dragon!" Willas said somewhat excitedly.

Robb looked at him as if he had grown a new head, "A dragon?" he asked dumbly.

"So your brother claims, yes." Willas said as he placed the letter in front of him, continuing to explain, "Apparently it was being ridden by the dragon queen we heard about across the sea. She was badly injured, but he said he would send her here as soon as she was well enough." Willas explained as Robb read the letter, which said much the same.

Robb looked at his friend, "What do I do about a Targaryen?"

Willas shrugged, "A single girl who has no supporters nor friends? Do you need to do _anything_?"

"A single girl with a dragon," he replied, "No, you're probably right. We can deal with her after this war."

Willas nodded, "I think that's all for..."

A knock came on the door. The servant came in with a wine pitcher, and Margaery followed him in after him. Willas coughed awkwardly, and comically made a show of subtly sliding out of the room.

Margaery glared at him as he left, then sat next to her husband, "Goodmorning Robb," she said, and gave him a kiss on the cheek, "How are you today."

Robb smiled a little, "Better now." In the light of the day, Margaery's beauty radiated even more. _Gods, I am lucky._ He thought about how they had gotten closer after the tragedy of the wedding. They had grieved together for much of the wedding week, and he had gotten to know her in that way. They had started spending time together after that, free of duty. She had been a kindly soul who was endlessly funny and warm, and she seemed to like his ability to laugh at her jokes and help her through their troubles.

She giggled, and they kissed, then she looked at him with her huge almond eyes, "I heard what happened with the Imp and Bolton. Are you sure you're alright?"

Robb kissed her again, "I've done worse. It's not enjoyable, but it is my duty as a Stark."

She frowned and pulled him into an embrace. He accepted it, smiling until he heard, "Do you have to go?"

He pulled away to look at her, "Yes, but this will be the last time. After this, we will go north, finally."

She frowned at that, and kissed him again. He was going to try to escalate the moment, when a knock ruined any such attempts. He beckoned the person in, and in walked Oberyn Martell.

Margaery excused herself, and Oberyn took a place at the table, "Your grace, I am sorry to intrude on what seemed it could be a wondrous time."

"Prince Oberyn," he said looking at the man, "What brings you here."

"My brother, Prince Doran, gave me news, and I wish to share it with you." Oberyn replied.

"Aye?"

"Yes," he said, picking up a glass of wine, "We have been attacked, it would seem."

Robb raised an eyebrow, "By who?"

Oberyn placed down his wine goblet, "By Daenerys Targaryen, the dragon queen. She killed my nephew."

Robb took a glass as well, "You are very... calm about this."

"My brother tells me my nephew threw his life away," he said calmly, "I loved him dearly, but I cannot avenge one who kills themselves. I am sad for his loss, but I will calm in time."

Robb nodded, "Aye," he put down the glass, "I have also received word of the dragon queen, though far away from Dorne, I assure you. Perhaps you should tell your story first."

Oberyn nodded, "Very well, your grace. From the letter I received, apparently the dragon queen arrived with her dragons and some one and a half thousand slave soldiers and the exiled ser Barristan Selmy at the water gardens, our summer palace. She took our salt and bread, and demanded to see prince Doran, who was in sunspear. When my brother arrived, he found the dragons had been attacking the countryside and ordered them chained. That's when she ordered her soldiers to attack. The guards there managed to kill two of the dragons before the last could kill my nephew, who was foolish enough to attack it with a crossbow. The girl climbed onto the dragons back and destroyed much of the palace before flying away. Ser Barristan managed to escape with the army, and now is marching towards Sunspear, where my brother's forces are preparing for a battle." he concluded, "That is what I read from my brother, your grace. My brother would not lie to me."

Robb nodded carefully, considering what he had heard, "That is... interesting. I received word from my brother that a dragon won him the siege of Pyke. He apparently found the Targaryen girl on it's back, wounded, apparently from the fight in Dorne. He plans on healing her, then sending her here, presumably without her dragon."

Oberyn looked at him cautiously, "What will you do with her?"

Robb stated, "She is a wounded girl come to be our prisoner. I will not kill a helpless woman, prince Oberyn."

He looked puzzled, "Surely she is a danger to you?"

"Jon doesn't seem to think so, and I trust him. She will remain guarded here, until we can find something to do with her." he stated.

Oberyn nodded at the thought, "Yes, your grace." she took another swig of wine, "Interesting, one with Jon's parentage, to be protecting a Targaryen, no?"

Robb frowned and shook his head, "My father never said who Jon's mother was. I only knew he came back with him after he went to Dorne."

Oberyn chuckled, "She was a beautiful woman. Any man would lose their honor for her in a heartbeat. Ah, but she only had eyes for one man."

Robb suddenly sat bolt upright, "How do you know who his mother is?"

Oberyn smiled, "I have an eye for it. And I had known his mother long before he was born. He barely has any of her in him, but I could see it when he was here."

Robb shook his head, "Who? Who was she?"

Oberyn raised an eyebrow, "Ashara Dayne. She was beautiful, but she fell in love with a Stark. But when her Stark man killed her noble uncle she fell into a deep sadness, which took her."

Robb looked dumbstruck. _Ashara Dayne? She is the one who birthed John?_ Eventually he looked at Oberyn, deciding he would need to come to terms with it later, "Is there anything else?"

"Only one thing," he said with a smile, "We are riding tomorrow to Harrenhal. What is our plan?"

Robb looked at him, "Tywin is weak. He marches to save King's Landing once more. We march to finish off whatever survives."

Oberyn rose and made for the door, "I will follow you, your grace." he paused to smile at Robb, "And finally, I shall avenge my sister."

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

'Sokay, I think. It sort of became a game of musical Robb in the second part, but it flows, to me at least, pretty well. If anyone has any problems with the characterization here, I think it's alright, but tell me anyway. As for Jon last time, I'll address the specifics in the responses, but I did a minor touchup to delete the worst part, and I think the rest is just him kinda trying to hard. I think it works. Next is Margaery or Tyrion or, heck, Howland

To Quindecim: Yeah that was kind of what I was going for, the whole "Jon trying to be Ned" thing. It came off a bit too harsh though. I just don't know how to fix it, so for now I'm leaving it. Thanks on the Daenerys point, I really like how she sounded in this chapter. It just sorta worked, you know? I think the next Jon/Dany will be a little bit, but it will happen

To Fejstroll: I'm kind of surprised on that. I thought if anything Jon was too distrusting, but I guess he does take some things to be what she says they are. I dunno, can I just call that Stark honor expects everyone to be honorable?

To Guest: Thanks!

To Master of Dragons God: I aim to please

To Ojha: I think, both in number of chapters and amount of painful story, Dany could indeed use a break. She may not get it though, on either account

To Ruci: Like I sorta said above, I did take out the weird wintery bits from that quote. Rereading it was just pretentious. I agree that he has an affinity for outcasts, definitely, but like you said, he was supposed to be blaming her for a lot in this chapter. Basically, I completely agree with everything you said, and you're a very smart person. 10/10. As for the Tyrell point, I think that not only them, but the Martells may be an issue for her.

As for the giants point, it depends, actually. I'm an engineering student, so I took the time to do the calculations on this estimating a giant to be roughly 1000lbs and 12 feet tall, putting the center of mass, when standing, at about the average person's head. In that case, They could actually go from sitting to standing so long as they don't put too much torque on the boat itself, meaning they go straight up from a kneel. Firing an arrow is more complicated, but to simplify it, it sends the boat backwards aways. All of this works due to all sorts of fascinating physics principles, which, if you have any interest in, you should go check out. It's the kind of thing that gets me excited.

Also, Roose Bolton is suffering from rather acute neck pain at the moment, so I guess wish granted.


	38. Margaery V

**Margaery**

It was three days after Robb left that she was certain. She went to the maester, who merely confirmed her suspicions. After a long discussion about how she wouldn't be drinking wine and would eat more green vegetables, she finally freed herself from the old man's grasp, traveled up the stairs and knocked at her grandmother's door. A servant let her into the ladie's pamperin room, where the Queen of Thorns was being attended by three servants while she looked out the large balcony over the Tumblestone.

"Grandmother," she greeted the elderly woman with a hug.

"Come sweetling," she said with a smile, "I see that look in your eyes, child. What is it that's troubling you?"

Margaery breathed in, then smiled as she said, "Grandmother, I am with child."

Olenna Tyrell had a devious smile on her face, "Oh, that's wonderful, sweetling. I am sure the king will be most please."

Margaery frowned at the mention of her husband. He had departed so quickly, off to fight a war that he may not come back from. It was odd, she thought, how quickly she had grown to appreciate the benefits of having a husband. She suddenly came back to reality when she felt her grandmothers hand on her shoulder, "You worry for your new husband's health?"

She nodded, "I do grandmother," she sat down next to the old woman, "It's weird, I've barely known him but he's started to mean so much to me. He protects me and helps me and now that Loras is..." she cut herself off, nearing tears, but blinking them back, "gone, he's the only one I have left."

Her grandmother laughed at her, "You worry too much, child. Come now, child, what use is there worrying over that which you can't control. If he lives, and I believe he will, Starks are notoriously hard to kill, then you will live happily with him as Queen of the North. There is nothing to fear. If he dies, he dies, and you will be raise the next King as the Queen in the North."

Margaery sniffed, still frowning, but said, "I will be the best Queen there's ever been."

Her grandmother hugged her, "My child," she looked down for a second, "When my Luthor died, I wept for my memories of him. I did my duty as a widow, refused to remarry, so on. But I did not waste my time crying about what we might of done. Now it did help that my Luthor was an oaf, but from what I've seen of Robb, you may not be better off."

Margaery looked at her incredulously, "Grandmother!"

"It's the truth," she countered cleanly, "Though my Luthor was an oaf for believing he was capable of more than he was, Robb is an oaf for not doing what he is capable of."

Margaery was confused, "What is it he is capable of?"

The Queen of Thorns laughed, "Being King of course! No, not King in the North. King on the Iron Throne! No don't look at me like that. He has defeated one house, has another three as allies. There is little that could stop him." she chuckled more as she took a sip of wine before sighing, "Of course he has his father's damned honor. Just like his grandfather, Rickard. Now there was a man who was utterly humorless. At least his grandson knows how to smile, I doubt he'd ever really figured it out."

Margaery leaned back in her chair, "He wouldn't want the Iron Throne. All he wants is the North." Her husband had spoken about his home as if it were what he was fighting for. He loved it dearly, and would never want to leave it to sit on a throne he had no rights to.

"Yes, he does. Noble of him, honorable, and entirely foolish." she replied, "If only he could get past that, he'd be such a remarkable boy. Not in the least bit oafish."

Margaery smiled a little. She felt comforted that her grandmother approved of her husband, save only his ambition. It, somehow, guaranteed his safety to her, even if it truly didn't. She stood again, "Thank you for your wisdom, grandmother. I think I will go find the princess."

_Last I saw her, she was keeping Lady Brienne quite busy. _Poor Lady Brienne. She was Catelyn's sworn shield, but after the wedding, she blamed herself for her death. She hadn't been in the fortress at the time, instead guarding the exterior from attack, figuring that would be the avenue of attack. _The poor woman has failed twice due to things far outside her control._ Afterwards, she had sworn to defend Catelyn's daughter from harm, in service to Catelyn's memory. She had been keeping constant vigil over the girl, even letting her practice sword fighting with her, with the King's permission of course.

Margaery walked the long way to the girl's rooms, having regained her composure, and found herself in the middle of a small dining hall, where she found a curious sight, "Lord Tyrion" she greeted the half-man, who was grinning while leaned far back in a chair at a table adorned with a large pitcher of wine, a heavily armed guard standing behind him.

"Queen Margaery. Your sight is a blessing from the seven to my tired eyes." He laughed hilariously, but said nothing. The whole room stank of alcohol.

"Lord Tyrion, are you drunk?"

"It seems a distinct possibility. This is my third... no, fourth today. Oh... it's good to be drunk again." He said whimsically, "Ah, but where are my manners? Would you like some wine?"

She shook her head, "I'm afraid I won't be partaking for some time."

Tyrion smiled, "No? Is the queen with child?"

She blushed, "It would seem so, my Lord."

He laughed heartily, "Then I shall drink to your health, and to the King's new babe." he choked down another glass, before saying, "You know, despite their shared penchant for warfare, I believe he will be an improvement on Robert."

Margaery raised an eyebrow, "If you don't mind me asking, why?"

Tyrion frowned, "Robert loved war. Lived for it. Robb seems to hate it, like his father. That's what makes a good king. Less killing, more drinking and fucking."

Margaery decided to take that as a compliment, "I am most grateful for your kind words, Lord Tyrion."

Tyrion gave another smile, "I only speak the truth, your grace."

A pitter patter of feet suddenly came, and Margaery looked down to see the figure of Arya running into the hall, and could hear the distant stopping of mailed feet. She tried to run past Margaery, but the Queen in the North put a hand in front of the wild princess, stopping her before she could get away. "Princess Arya, sweetling, I was just on my way to see you!" she said with a smile.

The girl squirmed in her grip, "Let me go, she'll kill him!" she cried from Margaery's arms, to Tyrion's chagrin.

Margaery struggled against her, "Lady Brienne? Why would she kill you?" she asked, but Brienne strode into the room with a frown on her face.

"Your grace, the girl should be punished." she said in a breath.

Margaery cocked her head to the side, "Why? What has she done?"

Brienne scowled further, "I found her sneaking food to a man hidden in the castle. Apparently he had sneaked in without our knowing."

"He's my friend," the girl spat back. Margaery could see it pained Brienne to have to punish the girl. _Both of them are so similar in so many ways._

"How do you know of this?" asked Margaery sweetly.

Brienne looked down a second, "I caught glimpse of him when the princess was giving him a meal, a little while ago. I hesitated too long, and when I got there, he disappeared, but the princess ran away before I could question her."

"So there's a stowaway somewhere in Riverrun, so what?" Tyrion countered, "I imagine there may be others as well. Bring the boy to the Queen. If he isn't an enemy, what harm is there in letting him stay?"

Arya smiled at the dwarf's words, but Margaery frowned a little, "Arya, dear, who is this man you've been keeping?"

"He's not a man! He's a dumb boy," she began before regaining her own composure, "His name is Gendry Waters. He protected me when I was going to Harrenhal and was with Lord Tywin."

Margaery looked at Tyrion, who shrugged, "Maybe he could be useful to the castle."

Arya nodded, "He's a good blacksmith. One of the best."

Margaery considered this, "We will see the man. If what you say is true, he can go to the armory and see if the smith will take him. Lady Brienne, if you would be so kind as to fetch him? I'm certain princess Arya will lead you to him." She added with a pointed look at the she-wolf.

Brienne hesitated, "Yes your grace. But, there's something you should know about him..."

"What is that, my Lady?"

She clenched her jaw for a moment, "He... well... it's just he resembles... I'm sorry your grace. Perhaps it's just best you see it for yourself."

Margaery didn't understand, but nodded, "Yes... well, we will wait in the great hall for you." She looked at the smallest Lannister, and he frowned as he followed Margaery, his guard looming over him. It wasn't long after they arrived that Brienne entered, face rife with confusion, followed by Arya and Renly. _Renly?_

Margaery looked at the young man dumbstruck. As he got closer, she could tell he wasn't Renly. He didn't look quite the same, but the resemblance was uncanny, "Milady." The man said kneeling so quickly she could tell the man had never been high born.

"Your grace." a distraught Lady Brienne corrected. _So that's why she was so upset._

Margaery turned to Tyrion, who looked as shocked as she did, "Please, rise." she said after a long while, "What is your name, young man?" _I shouldn't call him that, he is my age._

"Gendry Waters, your grace." Tyrion nodded at the 'Waters' surname. _So he's Robert's bastard?_ She supposed he could be Renly's, but he seemed much too old for that.

"How did you get here, Gendry Waters?"

He looked at his feet, "I ran away from Harrenhal after the battle. I heard that the Princess Arya was in Riverrun. I had nowhere else to go, so I went here."

"And Arya let you in how? And how long ago?" Brienne asked. _She's concerned for the safety of the keep._

"I snuck in with some soldiers, my Lady. She found me in the yard and hid me beofre you could see me. I've been staying behind the kitchens, and Arya would let me have some food she takes. I'm sorry your grace." He said. _He looks very afraid._

"Did you make that helm, boy?" Tyrion asked, noticing the helmet by the boy's side. He nodded, "Bring it here." Tyrion inspected the helmet, before turning to Margaery, "You would be a fool to lose this boy's talent's, your grace. He would be invaluable to the war effort." he said with a look in his eye. _He's planning something._

"I agree, my Lord. Go, Gendry Waters, and find the armorer. Seven know we could use more blacksmiths." She ordered. Arya beamed, and led the boy by hand away from the hall, Brienne following grudgingly behind.

Margaery turned to Tyrion, "You're planning something." it was a declaration.

Tyrion laughed, "No, your grace, I am far too drunk to plan anything. But if your husband finds out he has a claimant to Storm's End in Riverrun, he may just tell Stannis. If he did that, then he may just convince Stannis that he should be Storm King, not King of Westeros. Oh but it is all musing, your grace. I'm afraid I am drinking myself into a stupor, and shall retire now. Good day." he said with a triumphant smile, as he waddled out.

Margaery found herself alone in the hall, save the many guards who patrolled it. She decided to leave, but before she could go she saw the familiar face of her brother approach her, arm in arm with his new favorite companion, Arianne Martell.

"Your grace," Arianne and Margaery greeted each other, before Margaery pulled her eldest brother into a hug.

"I just came back from seeing mother," he began, "She has not been well, but is getting better. She wants to see you, if you have the time."

"Of course brother. I'm certain she's missed her only daughter. Not that you and your... companion aren't more than enough company."

Wills frowned at the implication, "Yes, I've grown to enjoy the company of Arianne, though seven know I bore her."

She giggled at that, "Oh, your grace, you are hardly boring. In fact, you are far more interesting than many other men in your position. All they can talk about it war and drinking. None of them know half as much as you do, or are nearly so pleasant company." _She really seems to like her, but it's clearly all a facade._

Willas beamed at her, then turned to Margaery, a face of deviousness spread on him, "There's been whispers throughout the castle, but I wanted to be certain if they were true. Are you with child?" Margaery nodded a little sheepishly, and Willas kissed her forehead in joy.

"Oh that's wonderful," commented Arianne with a gracious smile, "I wish I had children of my own."

Willas turned to her, "Perhaps you could, my Lady, if you found a suitable husband."

Arianne smiled, "Perhaps," she said with a sultry voice, bringing herself closer to Willas.

Margaery rolled her eyes. She is playing a game, playing it well to be sure, but still playing. Margaery would put an end to it if it didn't directly benefit her and her husband. Instead, she decided she would encourage it, "Perhaps a marriage with the Reach would help you, your grace. It would bring your nation into the fold, and allow you the children you desire."

Willas raised an eyebrow, "And who would you propose she would marry, dear sister?"

Margaery sighed, "Well, why not you? You are the same age, and Dorne as well as the Reach need heirs."

Arianne smiled at her, "A wonderful suggestion, but I fear his grace has no eyes for me." she said dramatically. _She's got him around her finger._

"I think it a good idea." he countered quickly, "But I doubt your father would let me marry you without his permission.."

She smiled broadly, "You mean it? Oh, we can write my father at once! I'm certain he wouldn't mind at all, especially not having such a powerful, smart, and handsome man for a son in law." She kissed him on the lips, much to Margaery's surprise. But Willas accepted it in a way that suggested it had not been the first time they had done that.

_Well that was awful fast, wasn't it._ Margaery was weary of the dornish woman, but was happy that her brother was getting some happiness in his life. Margaery walked back to her quarters, thinking on how much life this castle had seen.

Her late goodmother had been in her shoes not long ago, walking up a staircase, pregnant with a northman's child, husband off fighting a war for other people's crowns. _I wonder what it was like then, waiting for Ned Stark to come home from war. Was it the same as it is for me?_

Strangely, despite never knowing her very well, Margaery felt herself missing Lady Catelyn.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

A well deserved break from warfare. So for those who are going to accuse this chapter of not being gloomy enough, at this point, most of the sadness from the deaths at the wedding has been swept away, at least on the surface. People are going back to their lives, as they tend to. I think this chapter is pretty alright, nothing great, nothing terrible. So instead of commenting on it, I'll instead comment on story statistics. So this month, my most viewed chapter, after chapter 1, of course, is chapter 29, followed shortly by chapter 30. I went back to check, and those are the chapters that mark the Black Wedding, so I guess I scared folks off with murder xD.

Anyway, next is Ned.

To Guest: If you count Ramsay, then no. But he's a snow, so the Dreadfort is now unclaimed

To Fejstroll: Thanks for you comments on Oberyn Robb and Will, they're blasted hard to write so I go back and redo them a lot. I think I rewrote that chapter 3 times. Also, we'll see about Jon/Dany. I haven't really decided anything about that yet. Also, R+L=J is probably correct, (or at least was at first before GRRM decided that fun shall not be allowed) but NAJ is way more fun.

To Saint River: NAJ is fun, everyone likes NAJ. You get some Ned, he's a neat guy, and some Ashara, which fills your weird purple eye quota. What's not to love? And I was looking forward to headless Roose.


	39. Edric I

**Edric**

The ground was a quagmire. The trees rose around him. He knelt like he had a thousand times before, eyes intent on the knight he served. Beric Dondarrion was standing in the middle of the road, with his long sword sheathed, his shield on his off hand, flanked by Thoros of Myr.

Edric watched from behind his tree as the outriders approached him from down the path. They carried the badger banner, which Edric had been told belongs to house Lydden. They were the house of the man who had been sent to keep scouts on the road to Crackclaw Point ahead of Robb's army. It had been a hard march, but now they had word that Robb had made it at least as far as Maidenpool, which was abandoned after Tywin Lannister's army moved to defend once more against Stannis.

Edric looked to the side to see the half-dozen other men waiting in ambush, before turning back when he heard the Lord's voice.

Beric stopped the outriders, "Halt" he called.

The horsemen stopped, and Edric got a good look at them. There were... five, maybe. It was hard to see so far in the trees. Edric carefully knocked an arrow in his short bow. He was terrible with it, much worse than he was with a sword, but it had been necessary.

"Who dares stop us?" called out the leader of the riders.

"I am Lord Beric Dondarrion, and if you would tell me some things, you can be on your way, and no one need get hurt."

"I did not know that the mighty Lord Beric Dondarrion would lower himself so to banditry." countered the leader.

"We are no bandits." he replied, "We only require information."

"And what is that, then?"

Beric frowned, "Where is Lord Lewys Lydden?"

"Right here, you bastard." a middle-aged and burly man appeared on the side of the road opposite Edric. His blade came down fast as lightning, but Beric raised his shield to block the blow.

"Ambush!" screamed Thoros, and the men moved. Edric loosed his arrow, and landed an impressively centered hit on a nearby oak tree. He swore under his breath, drew his blade, and crouched. Beric had been very particular on what to do in these situations.

The other men charged in and before long the battle had been joined. The riders tried to run into the two leaders of the brotherhood, but after they drew their flaming swords, the horses spooked. Edric remained hidden as he saw Beric and Thoros cleave through the first two horsemen, who had barely been able to convince their mounts to move, causing the other horses to throw their riders and flee.

_Eight against at least twelve, but Lord Beric won't fail._ Edric looked to see if there were any more enemies around the other side of the tree, when he noticed several boiled-leather clad men squatting, with bows or swords in hand. Edric opened his mouth to scream when a gloved hand clasped over it. Edric tried to wriggle out of the grasp to warn his friends, but he felt the cold touch of steel pressed against his neck.

"Quiet boy," came a hissing voice. Edric watched wide eyed as the battle continued, with most of the brotherhood men falling to the Lannister men, save Thoros and Beric, who cut through the red cloaks like a knife through warm butter.

Edric heard a muddled order, and saw the archers loose arrows into the melee. Half the Lannister men caught the point blank fire, but of the remaining brotherhood men, only Thoros took an arrow, which lodged itself into the red priest's shoulder.

Beric turned to the woods, looking Edric in the eye, noticing the man behind him. He charged towards him, but a second volley caught him in the chest, while Thoros, too, collapsed to dirt. Edric tried in vain to scream, and was helpless to watch as the remaining men, Lannister and Brotherhood, were cut down by arrows. Finally, the attackers ran into the road, and began searching the bodies.

"Ser Brynden, we found Lewys Lydden." a man said to whoever it was who was holding Edric.

"Good. That takes care of one of our problems. Yorren, send word to the King. The roads are clear, so he'll march without harry."

"Of course, ser Brynden." a voice from behind Edric.

Edric felt the blade leave his throat, and he was spun to face an old man wearing knightly garb, with a black trout brooch around his neck, "Who are you boy?"

Edric swallowed at the sight of the frightful man, "Lord Edric Dayne of Starfall."

The man raised an eyebrow, "A Dayne? Tell me then, Lord Edric, why is a dornish Lord in the middle of the Crownlands at a time like this?"

"I am squire to Lord Beric Dondarrion." he replied as forcefully as he could.

The man nodded, "Where is Lord Beric?" he asked.

Edric looked at the road, "He was fighting the Lannisters with the Brotherhood."

The man seemed to understand, "I am ser Brynden Tully, commander of the King in the North's outriders." The man stepped away from him, and turned to one of his men, "Find him a horse and an escort. Bring him to King Robb, tell him he's a lord of Starfall and he knows something about the brotherhood without banners."

The outrider nodded, and led Edric by the arm to a small clearing some way behind the woods, where their horses were waiting. _Seven hells they found us without us even knowing it._ He mounted and the man brought him down the long path for hours before they found the breaking camp of the King in the North. The man escorting him had an exchange with the guards around the center circle tents, before one of them brought him in. It was there he saw a tall, red headed man stood conversing with a man whom the word giant likely defined, and another man, from Dorne, without question, though his face was obscured as the approached.".

The man escorting him knelt, but as soon as Edric saw the King's face, he couldn't help but blurt out, "You don't look much like Arya."

The man looked taken aback, suddenly assaulted by the declaration. The dornishman looked up and laughed, "That is hardly a way to talk to a king."

Edric reddened at the comment, and fell to his knees, "I'm sorry your grace, I was just struck by the realization."

The man regained himself, and looked at the guard, "Why did you bring him here?"  
>"The Blackfish sent him. Apparently he knows something about the brotherhood."<p>

"What's your name, boy?" asked the half-giant.

He puffed up his chest. _I will carry my name with honor,_ "I am Edric of house Dayne." He said, causing the King to look even more surprised.

"He's the lord of Starfall," declared Oberyn, "I'll be honest, I did not expect to see so many with dornish blood so far north."

The king looked at Oberyn with narrowing eyes, "Yes, well, you say he is a Lord, so he should be treated as such. Please unhand Lord Edric." he ordered the guard, who obeyed and left, "Now, how is it you know my sister?" he asked in a growl. Edric suddenly noticed the great direwolf stalking the nearby ground.

"I...I m...met her in King's Landing," he began stuttering at the sight of the beast, "Lord St...stark had to order Beric to fight the Mountain, and I was his squire."

Oberyn put a hand on his shoulder, "He is just a boy, your grace. Let him catch his breath." The king looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but nodded at Oberyn's suggestion. The prince of Dorne turned to the young lord, "I would invite you to join us. I am marching with King Robb as prince Doran's representative, and I doubt another man of Dorne could make for bad company on the long road to Duskendale."

The star struck Edric Dayne could only nod as he mounted a horse presented to him. He glanced back to where the wolf was, but in it's place was King Robb, riding out to lead the column. Edric followed his prince, riding side by side in the departing column of soldiers.

The prince looked over and smiled at him, "You are the second Dayne I've seen so far north. You do seem to have a knack for being so far away from home."

Lord Edric looked terrified at him, "Second? Darkstar was here?" He did not like the eldest scion of the Daynes of High Hermitage. He was a terrible, cruel man.

The prince laughed, "Darkstar is too busy making trouble for my brother in Dorne to be here. No, I am speaking of your cousin." he paused to look at Edric's confused face, "The son of Ashara."

Lord Edric shook his head, "My aunt died after the stillbirth of a daughter, Prince Oberyn."

He smiled again, "You know of the King's half-brother, Jon?"

Lord Edric nodded, "He is my milk-brother." And a bit of an idol. The White Wolf's quest for vengeance had made him a folk-hero among the folk of the riverlands. He was honorable and respected by even the bravest men. Lord Edric could barely help himself but idolize him.

"He is your cousin." Oberyn said barely above a whisper. "I saw it in his cheekbones. There is no doubt he is of your aunt's line."

Edric shook his head, "I'm sorry my Lord." he tried, "But there's no way..."

"Lady Ashara died shortly before Jon went North, no?" Oberyn declared, "It was out of sadness, my Lord. I am sorry to tell you, but it is the way of the world. After her beloved killed her brother, she had no choice."

Edric said nothing. He was lost in thoughts of the new Dayne in the world, when Oberyn spoke, "I believe that makes him your heir, if I'm not mistaken." he laughed, "He has made quite a name for himself in the Isles and the North. Perhaps you should meet him."

Edric frowned, "Darkstar would try to kill him if he knew. He already tried to make me name him heir."

Oberyn raised an eyebrow, "He desires Starfall?"

Edric frowned, "I think he desires Dawn."

Oberyn chuckled again, "Perhaps he does. But if there's another Dayne, perhaps he could be the Sword of Morning."

Edric looked stunned at the implication, "The Sword of Morn..."

"I jape, of course." Oberyn replied curtly, "The Sword of Morning belongs to house Dayne, and he is of house Stark." He shrugged, "Still, he would be a better sword then Darkstar ever would."

Edric said nothing, only looked at the ground, thinking about his revived master looking for him. _Perhaps Jon will be the next sword of morning. Perhaps I wasn't meant to go back to Beric_

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

Short one but it's got good stuff in it. Main point was to introduce the Sword of Morning idea back into the story. Edric, I think, is gonna be a recurring POV at this point. If there was anything you didn't like here, please review and tell me, so I can fix it. Also, a suggestion on who should be next would be nice. Pretty much any POV character would be good, they're all up to something. Also, I made a map of major character movements in my story, if there's any interest I can post it somewhere.

To Ojha: I thought about it, and I'm like 90% certain they would. I know it's like, a fanfic trope, but yeah, they would. The second child would probably be named Sansa or Loras as well. Sorry, mate.

To Fejstroll: Thanks, I pretty much do this for the intrigue too. Like I said in the last reply, Eddard is a serious possibility.

To : In the words of Edward Hopper, "Shit. Fuck. I did it again. Goddamnit. Fuck. Not again. I did it again. Shit.

To Pop: Thanks, pop!


	40. Tywin I

**Tywin**

The Crownlands were laid in front of him. His gaze traced the twin pincers of these lands, watching as toy soldiers were lined up, tiny yellow men in the south and white men in the north. He looked at the red toys boldly defending the Capital in the south, and his own red men waiting to pounce in the north. Tywin grunted with frustration as he placed a black boat in the sea, far from the yellow ones who lurked in the islands.

A knock came from the door, "Enter" Tywin commanded.

His yellow haired daughter entered the room. She sat down daintily at the table, which lay at the center of Tywin's temporary rooms in the castle of Duskendale.

"You've had Joffrey brought here." he began. Her foolish action was part of the reason he had to divert his army from the march to King's Landing's aid.

"I will not let you leave my son to die in the capitol." she countered.

"It was a foolish thing to do." He amended, "He will be sent back."

"He will do no such thing." her eyes were cold, "He will stay here where he will be safe."

"Safe?" Tywin asked, his voice as cool as his daughter's, "The Starks have marched their army to Maidenpool. That is a fortnight's march from here. He is far safer in the walls of the city."

His daughter tried to seem serene in the way she did when she wanted control over a conversation, "I brought him here so that when you returned, he may be seen by his people leading the army come to save him."

Tywin raised an eyebrow, "Where is this army of yours?"

Cersei looked taken aback, "You mean to abandon us?"  
>Tywin frowned, "Your cousin, Lancel Lannister will march his force to protect the capitol. I will lead my own force to save Casterly Rock from Randyll Tarly."<p>

"You would abandon your king?" she snarled at him.

He looked up at her, watching her eyes, "Your king has twenty thousand swords protecting him."

"Robb Stark has forty thousand. Stannis another twenty thousand. They are coming, father, and you will let your king be skewered between them." she shouted.

"The king," he began, "has done very little to protect my lands, while I have done much to protect his. I will take Tommen with me to Casterly Rock where he will be groomed as heir, and the king must remain here to protect his subjects."

She shook her head, disbelieving, "No, you know something. There's something you aren't telling me!" she declared, and she glanced down for a second. Barely a glance, but enough for her to notice the black ship. Her face resolved into it's old self, when she asked innocently, "Dear father, what is this representing? I know of no house whose colors are black. At least, not one who marches against us."

Tywin's face hardened into a scowl, "That is none of your concern."

"If there is a new threat to the king..."

"He will be informed of it." He finished.

She smiled, "Then all the more reason to tell me now. If you plan on making for Casterly Rock, it would speed you on your journey should I inform him."

He contemplated for a moment, before deciding to reveal what he had learned, "I received two missives in the last few weeks which concerned me. Both involving the Targaryens."

Cersei looked confused, "I though the dragon bitch had been killed by the dornish."

Tywin glared at her, "No, she escaped with her last dragon. There have been sightings all over the Kingdoms of her dragon, and it would seem she has arrived in Pyke, just in time to aide Jon Snow's invasion of the isles. It would seem she is very injured, and has been bedridden for some time now."

"Good, she will die far from the throne." Cersei answered defiantly, "What else?"

"There is rumors that a boy in Essos claims to be Aegon Targaryen, the son of Rhaegar." he answered, his cool demeanor masking his own anger, "He has convinced the Golden Company to sail to Westeros, backing his claim. They have made landfall at Crackclaw Point, near the Whispers."

Cersei looked terrified, for once, "What does this mean for us?"

Tywin took a glass of wine, "It means that Robb Stark has to turn his army to face him. He is ten thousand against forty thousand, but the Golden Company may be powerful enough to break him."

Cersei eyes widened,"You will have him deal with the Starks while Lancel fights Stannis."

Tywin nodded, "Lancel may not have to fight Stannis yet. The Baratheons have taken Massey's Hook. He may try and oppose Aegon before us."

Cersei laughed, "Then they will crash like waves against our walls."

Tywin merely nodded, "Very well then. I will send servants to collect Tommen and Joffrey."

Cersei's face fell again, "You will not take them."

"I already said I would." he said calmly once more, "And your continued resistance will do nothing to stop it."

"You want me to send my son into the viper's pit alone?"

"He has many noble knight's of the kingsguard..." Tywin began

"Those knights will be nothing against Stannis, nor the Starks." she interrupted enraged.

"And he will have an army to defend his city." Tywin closed with a dangerous edge.

"That army will die with my son!" she declared.

"They will do their duty as you will do yours." He roared.

She shook her head, "Stannis will throw Joffrey's head on the battlements like he tried to do the last time."

"Even if," he was enraged that it was implied that he would see his own blood killed, "Stannis managed to pass the gates, he would never kill Joffrey. He is Robert's son, and Stannis would never live being called a kinslayer."

"But he isn't Robert's son!" Cersei countered, eyes beginning to water.

Tywin snarled, "Enough. I won't hear it."

"You would never hear it," Cersei said between tears, "Father, all that they say about us. About Jaime and I, it is true."

"Enough!" he roared, "Get out!"

Cersei put on a bitter smile, "Here you are, the old lion of Lannister."

"Leave!" he shouted once more. His daughter rose and walked, looking as dignified as she could.

After she left, he leaned back in his chair. _My children. One a traitor, one dead, and one who has become a threat to herself._ He tried to imagine what Joanna would say. His shoulders fell and his expression darkened at the thought of his wife. _It has been so long, I can hardly remember her smile._

Strangely, in the wake of his mourning his long dead wife, he found himself thinking of little Arya Stark. There had been so much life in that girl. He thought she reminded him of Cersei, but he was wrong. There was none of Cersei's arrogance in her, and the girl was far too spirited, far too alive to ever suffer a true comparison to his daughter. No. _Arya had reminded me of Joanna._

He thought about this for a long while.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

So I hate this, but I think I needed it. Now at least we know where everyone is? Well, except for Davos. Don't worry, he'll show up again. I was also very deliberate in keeping Tywin from reminiscing too much about the defiance, mostly because he never really seemed the type to reminisce until he felt sad. Next will be a longer Jon chapter (And possibly a rewrite of this chapter if it gets as much hate as I suspect it might).

Oh, also, there was a HUGE mistake on the last chapter. So big, I will go back to fix it tomorrow and felt the need to announce it. In the original, Oberyn says the northern army is headed to Duskendale. They aren't, they're headed to Antlers. This is a mistake so integral to the pot that I must deeply apologize for it. I'm sorry.

To Ojha: I hope you like the Tywin chapter, even if I don't.

To Quindecim: Gotta love some Dawn.

To NoFate2608: I'm glad you liked it! Edric was fun to write. I should really get an editor on this thing, though. I'll make the fixes tomorrow, along with the Duskendale thing.

To silverswath: So, the reason for the confusion at the begining was that, as it was Edric's chapter, his confusion in the situation, I feel at least, should reflect the readers. However, to answer your question about why he would be confused despite doing it "a thousand times before," as well as not fight is because, well, he's twelve. Not a ton of twelve year olds who can fight experienced men on horseback in a sword fight, surprise or no. He's a squire, not yet a knight, so he has time yet to become a fighter. Also, I'm aware that Arya is younger, but Arya is a licensed badass motherfucker, so she doesn't count.

To Fejstroll: I like Edric. I also like how much this could work with the whole story. The brotherhood is still around, but I think they'll be fading into the background more and more now. Ice's location will be revealed soon enough, all I say now is that the blade has not yet been melted down.

To Hurricane Jackson: I'm really happy for all the Nedric Dayne love. Clearly this chapter did something right, so I'm glad.

To Ruci: You really aren't buying the dornishman who claims to be able to figure out the heritage of someone while both he and they were deep in mourning and half drunk from the previous night's festivities by the shape of his cheekbones? I can't imagine why.

Here is the Lannister side, as I said with Ojha, I hope you like despite my...misgivings. Also, Aegon showed up.

Yeah, I felt like the death of Roose Bolton lacked a certain grandiosity, but I think it worked out for the best that way. I mean, who would suffer a traitor a glorious death? Oh that sounded good. I'll use that.

As for Brienne being harsh, I kinda disagree with you. Mostly because of the context of Brienne's seeing Gendry. I mean, with her blaming herself for Catelyn's death, seeing anyone sneaking about the castle puts her on edge, and with Gendry looking so much like Renly, I don't think it's ridiculous to say she would be seriously distraught.


	41. Jon V

Jon

Tormund sat in the ragged wood chair, "This rock's ours, Prince Crow. We need the other one's if we're going to finish the squids."

"Aye, Tormund." agreed Jon from the Seastone Chair, "How many men have we got left?"

The Redwyne admiral, a man by the name of Gareth Flowers, replied, "We've perhaps six thousand free folk, and another three thousand waiting to join us at Deepwood Motte. We've eight thousand Karstark men, four thousand Crannogmen, and my own men, who're two thousand in number."

At the mention of Howland's people, Jon looked at the solemn man, who he found returning his gaze. There was always something sad in his contemplative eyes, something that Jon didn't know of. Jon nodded as Gareth finished, "Where are the remaining Ironborn stationed?"

Braith spoke then, "The rest of the Isles remain in open rebellion, but the only garrisons left are in Harlaw, Great Wyk, and Lonely Light."

"Invading Lonely light is foolish, your grace." added Gareth, "They've less than a thousand men there. It's at the end of the world, we don't need to invade their little home."

Braith seemed not to argue the point, but Howland looked uneasy, "You've not spoken, Lord Reed. What do you think of the invasion of Lonely Light?"

Howland spoke quietly, as he always did, his eyes barely visible under the tall green hood he wore, "The Farwynds are wild people. They will fight to the last man so long as there is a Greyjoy to become King of the Isles."

Tormund guffawed at this, "How many more squids could there be? Prince Crow killed the old bastard, and the girl was killed by the dragon. The traitor squid was killed by the old kneeler," Jon nodded at Lord Karstarks pseudonym, "And the gold one was killed by Tor Thunderfoot. Are there more?"

"Two," Howland answered with a smile at the man's brashness, "The priest of the drowned god, Damphair, and the brother, Euron Crow's Eye. Both are dangerous men, capable of leading a resistance."

"Last we heard of Damphair, he was leading the armies of Harlaw. But Crow's Eye hasn't been seen in years." Braith answered.

"He left in exile ordered by his elder brother," answered Howland, "His elder brother is dead, and he is the best king they have left."

"What do you suggest, Lord Reed?" asked Jon. He hasn't stopped looking at me.

"You must keep this isle protected. If Euron comes back, there must be someone ready for him."

Jon nodded, "Very well then, we will divide the army into three parts, and the fleet into two. Tormund, you will lead the attack on Great Wyk. There are fewer fortresses there, and the free folk will have a better time there then Harlaw. I will lead the Karstarks in the invasion of Harlaw."

"Your grace, I don't think that wise," Howland answered calmly, "The Isles will begin to fall, and will need someone to rule them. I cannot, as after the war I must return home. Ser Braith has many talents, but he has never ruled a nation. Nor has ser Gareth. You are the only one who has any idea of how to rule among us, so it must be you who sits the Seastone Chair until a proper replacement can be found, or, perhaps, not."

There was more to why Howland wanted Jon away from the fight, he knew, but Jon merely nodded. He knew the Isles must be ruled, even while being conquered, and what Howland said was true that he very well may sit the Seastone Chair in his brothers name, "Very well then. You will take half the Karstarks and your own men to fight in Harlaw. After ser Gareth has safely ferried you, his fleet that sailed with you will begin to take the smaller, undefended isles, while the other half will sail with ser Braith to get reinforcements to Great Wyk."

"A good plan, your grace." the admiral said, though Jon suspected he was just glad he would not be with the fleet ferrying the wildlings. The southrons were not fond of the free folks more... eccentric habits.

After the council left his room, another man entered, "Bael." he greeted the man.

The healer presented a small stack of letters, "As you requested, your grace." he said with a flourish.

Jon looked stunned at the pile. There has to be twenty, at least, "What are all of these?"

The man smiled, "The top ten are all from the lords of Pyke, offering official surrender. The next three are from Riverrun, your sister I suspect. There is another from a Tyrell, and one last one from your brother."

Jon heaved, not remembering any of what was said. He dismissed the man, and began with the first letters. They were all the same, all surrenders and noble lords and so on. Then he came across the letters from Arya. He read it, feeling sadness come over him. His sister was grieving for her mother and sister, for her father and her friends. She at least seemed to be making friends, but she was getting into trouble wife Robb's wife. He smiled when she detailed how wonderful Lady Margaery was for letting Gendry stay.

He finished the last of Arya's letters near laughing, putting it to the side to write back. He had a fine little sister. Then he began the letter with a rose seal. He read, carefully reading the news. When he finished the letter, he let out the laugh that had built in him. Robb will have a baby. The news was good, and he leaned back in his chair as he began reading the last letter, ready to smile more. A dream dashed in the first lines.

Jon,

Randyll Tarly has failed to take Sarsfield. His army has fallen back to Hornvale, and they're preparing another attack against the Gold Road. This will delay the attack on Lannisport. Likewise, we have received word that Tywin Lannister plans to march away from the Crownlands. We have taken Maidenpool, and I've split the army to take the fortresses along the coast as well as those on the path to Harrenhal. Stannis seems to be planning an assault on the capital soon.

During the march here, I received word from Prince Oberyn Martell. He told me he knew your mother.

Jon stopped, brow furrowing. My mother? Why now?

He said you had the look of our father, but behind it was the look of Ashara Dayne. I thought it wild rambling from a wild man, so thought it best to hold telling you until I next saw you. That is, until another Dayne appeared in my camp. The young Lord Edric Dayne has begun marching with us, spending much time with Oberyn. When I asked him what he knew of your birth, he said he thought you born from a maid named Wylla, though he confirmed his suspicion that Oberyn's tale may hold truth. I fear he may feel threatened with the truth Oberyn holds.

It pains me to think our father would ever do anything dishonorable, but it pains me more to know how you must feel. It was then I realized the only man who knows the truth of your parentage is not with me, but with you. Lord Howland Reed was the only one to return from Dorne with father. I implore you to ask him, for both our sakes, and that of our father.

Robb

Jon gulped down bile that had formed in his throat. Ashara Dayne? He barely knew the name. He was lost in contemplation for a moment, before rushing out the door, and asking a servant to send for Lord Howland in a word.

He slowly sat back in his seat, trying desperately to end his hands trembling, before being interrupted by the sound of an opening door and the small, old man entering the room. He sat down, a sad smile forming on his face, and said quietly, "I knew this day would come."

"What do you mean?" Jon found his voice less certain than he'd like.

"You wish to know who your mother was," Howland said in his quiet but easily heard voice, "And you deserve to know."

"My brother tells me prince Oberyn thinks it was Ashara Dayne." Jon said, slowly but surely reclaiming his demeanor.

"She was." Howland's eyes looked sadly on him, as if he knew what he was going to say, and that Jon was going to be upset.

Jon wasn't certain to say, "How do you know this?"

"When Ned and I went to Dorne," he began, "We found Lyanna in the Tower of Joy. I fought alongside him against three of the greatest kingsguard. It was seven against three, but only Ned and I survived." he paused and looked sadly into the distance for a moment before saying, even quieter, "We climbed the steps. Ran up them. And then I saw the wolf-maid bleeding."

"Lyanna?" Jon asked

The man smiled sadly, "Aye. Ned and I both loved her fiercely. She was just so..." he was lost in memory, "alive. To Ned she was the sister who could speak loudly when he couldn't. To me she was my saviour and friend, ever after Harrenhal. She saved me from fighting knights to defend my honor, kept me in her tent when I was weak. I would have done anything for her, but I was helpless when she lay dying in front of me."

Lord Howland Reed, Jon realized, was a man who had a body younger than his father's when he died, but eyes older than Old Nan's. His green eyes were downcast, "Lyanna did not die from wounds, she died from childbirth. Her son entered the world white of hair and screaming. It was all Ned and I could do to get her to the nearest wetnurse and castle. That's where we saw your mother for the last time."

He took another breath, and Jon was under the impression he was talking more now than he had in years, "Your mother loved Ned dearly. He loved her too. Had the war never happened they would have married, but it did happen, and they never did. When we arrived, she had just come from labor as well. You were more an image of your father, even then. Ned had planned on asking her to take the child in, but when she was told Ned had slain her uncle, she threw herself from the tower. Ned decided to take you in, then. He said no child should live an orphan from birth."

Jon was engrossed, "But what of the child?"

Howland gave another sad smile, "That was when Jon Connington had arrived, intent on defending the Tower of Joy, only to find it already fallen. I convinced Ned to let the child go with him, across the narrow sea. I offered to let you stay with me, for the sake of his marriage, but he insisted on taking care of you."

Jon shook his head, trying to make sense of all he had heard, "Why? Why would he want me to live a bastard, even if i was his bastard?"

"Because you were his blood," Howland answered, "And because your father was not a man to lie. He did all that he could and more to keep his blood safe."

Jon shook his head, but said, "Thank you, Lord Howland. For the truth."

Howland Reed rose from his chair, having told his tale, and turned to go to the door. Before he left, barely above silence, he sang to a haunting tune, "All I did for the knight of the laughing tree, and I would have done more."

Notes:

This was going to be two parts, but turns out, to through in the next part it would be (low estimate) another 3,000 words. And I know how much y'all like updates from these things, so I split it up so you don't have to wait until saturday to get more. Daenerys is next and I hope I will have it ready soon. I know, everyone's sick of Jon and Dany, we'll go back to the crownlands and the fighting and all that soon, I promise.

To Ojha: I'm really glad there was love for this chapter because lord knows I was not cinfident about it.

To karthik9: Thanks a ton! Here is an update so you may look slightly less forward.

To Ironman088: I hope this chapter throws a huge wrench in the mix of that fight (See, cuz now if they kill each other, it'll be kinslaying!) As for Robb, after Dany's bit, he'll be back to kicking names and taking ass.

To Fejstroll: I have not melted it down yet, and given that there was some love and no hate, I don't think I will. As for why I hate it, it has to do with narrative flow. It feels kinda forced to me, so I think it was a bit of a mistake in that regard. But I think, in hindsight, it was a needed chapter. It helps everyone see the world's politics for what they are at the moment.

After notes:

In the original version of this chapter, there was a major, glaring lore errors. Brandon of course couldn't have conceived Jon, because he was dead. So, I had to switch back to NAJ. I think there's more love for that theory anyway, so there you go.


	42. Daenerys V

**Notes:**

**Last chapter has a major error, so if you haven't gone back to read it after the change, I suggest you do. Mostly it just changed back to Ned being Jon's father.**

**Daenerys**

She had a cane. She hated herself for it, but she needed it to keep her balance. She hated being weak, she hated being vulnerable. She hated this damn castle, and she hated that she was barely healing.

She had, however, managed to find two things to look forward to every day. The first had just ended, that being her chats with her healer, Bael Magnar, before he went to attend the duties of a maester. The other had been notably absent from her day yesterday, much to her own annoyance. That was her lunch with the prince.

After the first day she arrived, the prince had invited her to lunch with him. He barely spoke during the meal, but Daenerys could tell he was concerned for her. He had kept taking those lunches with her, each time they spoke more. He spoke about what what happening in the war, where he came from, so on, and she told her stories of her past, though never too much. She found him kinder each time, each time he seemed to warm more to her. The time before the one he missed, he even called her "Dany."

She shook as she pushed herself to the table, hoping to have the break in the monotony that the prince brought. Her hopes came to fruition when the door swung open, revealing the dark haired prince. He sat down, his face grave. _He's far more grim than normal._

"Hello, your grace" she tried. She'd taken to calling him that, even if only in spite. _No reason to anger my captors._

"Hello, your grace" he replied, cooly, sitting down while a servant entered with wine.

She took a filled goblet and drank a sip, "You didn't come yesterday." she ventured.

He looked apprehensively, "Aye," he agreed eventually, "I was hearing... troubling news."

She put down the cup, looking at the man's gray eyes, "News of your brother?" She asked, worried immediately that he would think it a threat, but if he did, he did not show it.

"From, not of." he tooks a chug of wine, and looked out the window, "He told me who my mother was."

Daenerys's eyes widened. She knew the man had been born a bastard, and that knowing his mother may change everything for the politics of the realm. _If he is of another noble house, then perhaps he may gain even more allies. How can I fight him then?_ "Who was she?" she asked, realizing too late that may not have been the most sensitive thing to say.

He sighed, "Ashara Dayne." he took another drink of wine.

The house of the sword of morning was known to her, though she couldn't hide her surprise that Jon was from it, "I thought the Daynes had violet eyes"

Jon frowned, "I don't know. All I know is when I asked Howland Reed, he told me that my mother killed herself when my father took me home."

Daenerys gave a sympathetic look, "I'm so sorry."

"Don't" Jon held up a hand, "It happened a long time ago, anyway." he took another sip of wine.

Dany frowned, before deciding to try to help with, "My mother died when I was born, too."

He looked up sorrowful at her, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It was a long time ago." she echoed him.

He sighed, taking more wine.

She decided to change subject, using the appearance of her dragon flying in over the neighboring keep as an excuse, "He seems to be growing." she said, wistfully.

He nodded, "I think it's the fish. He's been hunting in the sea so often now I wonder if he'll clear them before long."

She laughed, "Perhaps." she looked back at Jon, "He does seem to be helping you though."

He smiled a little, "My men have said as much as well. They keep asking if I'll ride him soon. One even told me I must be a targaryen."

She raised an eyebrow, "Really?"

"Aye," his mood seemed to be improving, "I must ask you, why is it the dragon assists me?"

"Truthfully, I don't know. This whole time I've been here, he's been more... distant, then he used to be." she looked at him, desperate to see if he understood. For some reason, Daenerys felt he might.

He nodded, "The wildlings have skinchangers in their ranks. They call them wargs. One said I can warg into Ghost, and I would think that you could warg into your dragon."

She looked at him curiously, "So why has he become so detached?"

Jon shrugged, "I don't know. But if I had to guess, it's because someone warged into him before you could. Someone who is a much more powerful warg."

Daenerys could barely hide the fear from her face. _If someone could have taken Drogon, they could take the last thing I have._ Jon saw her face and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "No one can warg in a beast forever. Eventually he will come back to you."

She smiled at the sentiment, "Thank you, your grace."

"Call me Jon," he replied with a small smile.

"Very well, Jon, then call me Dany."

"Alright Dany."

She smiled at the nickname, and took another drink of wine. After she put down the cup, she studied the prince. He was handsome, in a dark sort of way. There was something strangely haunting about his grey eyes, and Dany felt inclined to stare at them.

He noticed her staring, and she stopped any awkwardness with, "How goes the conquest?"

He frowned, "My commanders have left to take the remaining strongholds. I'm staying here to keep the isles governed."

She frowned, "You should be leading the invasion."

He gave a look which made her think he agreed, "We have to keep the isles governed. I'm the only high lord left to do that. And there's a fear that the remaining Greyjoys will return to take back their seat."  
>Dany looked confused, "I thought Greyjoy was dead, as was his son."<p>

Jon nodded grimly, "Aye, but his brothers live. Aemon Damphair, priest of the drowned god, and Euron Crow's Eye, a pirate who has been reaving the seas for years."

Dany looked haughtily, "They will die to your army. There aren't enough Greyjoy men left to oppose you."

Jon nodded, "Aye, but neither has been known for playing fair. Damphair apparently is a noted zealot, who leads these isles in fanaticism. Euron, though..." he looked grim.

"Euron what?" she asked with a befuddled look.

"There have been stories. That he raped his brother's wife and forced him to kill her, that he sails on a ship of men who have had their tongues cut out so he may be silent on the seas, that he will return to kill me." Jon shook his head, "They are not honorable men, and they will not try to kill us as we would kill them."

Dany frowned, "You fear they'll send assassins?"

He smirked, "They already have. We've found two trying to sneak into the sea tower, but they fell into the sea."

She shuddered at the thought, and didn't know why. _Why should I care if a traitor dies by another traitor's hand?_ The thought of an evil man coming to kill the prince in the dead of night, complete with an eyepatch and a bloody sword frightened her. She also remembered that she too lived in the sea tower. _What if this Euron thinks to do the same to me what he did to his brother? _She looked down into her nearly empty goblet, "Assassins are a coward's weapon."

He smiled a little, "Aye, they are."

The food finally arrived, and they ate in silence. Dany snuck the occasional glance at the man, once even seeing him returning the gesture. She smiled a little at that, before going back to her meal. After they both finished, Jon looked up and they stared at each other for a second, "Dany, I..."

The door opened, interrupting him, "Your grace, the Lord Wynch has come to the castle."

Jon sighed, and rose, "I will be with him momentarily."

The servant bowed and left. Jon gave Dany a smile before leaving the room. She sighed, knowing she was damned to more hours of boredom, and moved to pick up a book she had been given by Bael. She read for hours before the sun set, and after a brief supper, lay back in her bed, staring at the brazier which had been lit by a servant, hiding under a cover against the chill wind which brought a storm in over the castle.

She thought of the dark prince who she had been talking to, trying to make him into the hated enemy Viserys always made his father out to be, but failing. _Perhaps I just enjoy the company of northmen._ Her thoughts drifted to her bear, Jorah Mormont, who had been ruling Meereen in her absence. She wondered if he was still ruling. _Have the slavers come back and killed him? Does he still live?_

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a heavy footstomp. She turned to the door, but found it shut as she found it. Feeling dread in the pit of her stomach, she turned to the window to find a man standing, soaked from sea-spray and the rain. He stepped forward, and she noticed with horror the black eyepatch around his eye, and the swarthy look he carried about him.

She opened her mouth to scream, but the man ran forward and covered it with his hand, "Hush now, love. That's hardly a way to greet a man without even knowing his name."

She pushed his hand from her mouth and spat, "I know who you are, scum. You are Euron Greyjoy."

His lips curled into a cruel smile, "Do ye' now?," he clamped his hand back on her mouth, using his weight to hold her down, "I imagine they told you what I did to poor old Victorian's Salt Wife. I'll have you know she enjoyed it, as you will."

Daenerys's eyes widened at the implication. She was thrown farther against the wall by the brute, who produced a dagger from some hidden sheath. She screamed, but was cut short by another gagging. She watched in horror, too weak to struggle, as the blade cut through her nightclothes, as the man continued to speak, "I said hush, bitch! Now, I would still be talking to my dear brother Victarion, except your little prince had him crushed by some great fool. Don't worry love, I've already slit the giant's throat, and after I'm done with you, I'll do the same to the White Wolf." He straddled her, and as his blade ripped farther towards her sex, she saw Viserys' face in her mind, laughing.

Suddenly the door came crashing down, and a white blur pounced over Daenerys. The man was thrown against the side of the room while Ghost took a guard over her.

"Damned mutt!" he shouted and he turned to stab the Direwolf with a dagger, but Ghost was too fast. He jumped and tore through the man's arm with his teeth, causing him to punch wildly at his snout.

The sound of unsheathing steel came from the doorway, and Daenerys turned to see Jon, Valyrian Steel blade held out before him, "Get away from her." he said in a voice so cold it could end summer.

Euron grimaced, and tensed to fight, but instead of charging, he threw his dagger at the prince. Jon shifted his blade to stop the attack, sending it spiraling helplessly to the floor, but Euron's distraction worked. He used the bought moment to turn and leap from the tower window, escaping his fate.

Jon quickly turned, sheathing his blade and helping Daenerys to her feet, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine." she said in a voice much shakier than she had hoped. She hadn't felt so helpless since she had been a child.

He held her carefully, letting her use him to support her weight, "Did he?"

"No, Jon. I'm fine," she lied.

He placed her gently back into bed, and sat at her bedside, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left you unguarded."

She shook, but said, "I'm fine Jon, thanks to Ghost." she gave as much a smile as she could to the beast, who jumped on her bed and lay down at her feet. She giggled as much as she could at the gesture.

He gave a false smile, "He seems to like you."

She held out a hand to pet her saviour, "He's beautiful." She hadn't thought so the last time she'd seen him, but now the white creature seemed more a puppy then a beast of war.

He smiled, "We'll get you more guards, I swear it."

She couldn't help but shake more, and she leaned on the prince's shoulder, for both support and comfort. He seemed somewhat startled by the gesture, but he didn't move away, "Thank you." she managed after a long pause.

His shoulders fell, and she kept laying there, enjoying his warmth. She closed her eyes, and drifted off into sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

This was originally going to have a rape, but I felt like I just couldn't do justice to that kind of trauma. I was worried that someone would accuse me of making light of a very serious issue and crime, and I would never want to even have the perception of that. So I'm not going to try to. I know this takes away from the "ultra-dark everyone is evil the world sucks" of GRRM's tale from mine, but I hope you respect my decision, and don't find it too off-putting.

To be honest I feel like Daenerys isn't quite right here, but I think a lot of that is just we missed her building some confidence and trust with Jon during her stay at the castle. We haven't really seen her in this kind of scenario before, so I think this might just be excusable. As for the rest, well, I'm sure I'll hear all about it it in the reviews :D

I think it may be Davos next, but maybe Edric or Robb.

Before the responses, I just want to acknowledge once more that I made a radical change to the story to allow for Jon to still be Ned's son and not Brandon's. This wasn't out of commentor pressure, but out of continuity. After all, Brandon can't go around making babies if he's dead.

To Fejstroll: I'm really glad you somewhat liked the chapter. So, I'm sorry about the story changes because I agree that would be really cool but it just didn't work. Sorry to dissapoint you if you're dissapointed. Still, Aegon being a Stark, I think, one of my better crack theories.

To Saint River: I didn't want him to be Ned's son, but I had to make him Ned's son. Consider your rant addressed. And yeah, now it's done with.

To Nappus: You're right, I'm sorry. Research was poorly done, and I bow to your lore knowledge. I shall merely take the road slightly less traveled on then the road completely abandoned with tumbleweed crossing it for effect. Also, really? Jon Connington was at Storm's End, and he may well have known that the remaining Kingsguard were at the ToJ. I could see it happening. In fact the only reason I couldn't see him going there is to protect another heir.

To Karthik9: Thanks a ton!

To Ironman088: I aim to surprise people. What's a story without some suspense?

To Colo Kid: That would be absolutely amazing, but not what I meant. Aegon is Lyanna's son, not Dany.


	43. Robb VI

**Robb**

"Why are we marching east?" Greatjon demanded, his gear from his long ride from Harrenhal still adorning him, "'Ave you taken a blow to the head? King's Landing is south!"

Robb rubbed his temples, "Aye, but if we're flanked by the Golden Company, we won't make it that far."

Greatjon grunted, "We've got more men than anyone else, better men too. We can take the rest of 'em combined."

Robb moved to allow his squire to better assemble his armor, "Yes, but if they stab us in the back, we will still be dead. I've sent half the reach men under Greysteel to take Antlers."

The lord of Last Hearth sputtered, "You what?! Now I know your mind is gone."

Robb snarled, "We have another twenty thousand men marching north from Dorne. We have fifty thousand here, twenty thousand of whom are more than enough to siege the cities of the Crownlands. The other thirty thousand will deal with these invaders, turn and take care of the capitol with an extra twenty thousand men and another victory to their names."

"And what if the Lannisters attack before then?" Umber spat.

"Then we kill them with twice as many men who've fought in twice as many battles." Robb replied cooly, "We will win this war so long as we aren't stupid. That's why we have to take on this invaders now, before they can kill more northmen." It was then Robb revealed his plan for the day's battle.

Greatjon Umber frowned, but begrudgingly agreed, "Then let's hope those dornishmen come soon." he said, but not as viciously as he could have.

Robb was fully suited and thanked Olyvar before leaving the tent. He found a horse, saddled and waiting for him after he left, which he mounted in a clean motion. He rode to the center of the command tents, where he found the other commanders ready for today's march.

"Good morning, your grace," Oberyn Martell, who had taken up command of half of the Riverland forces alongside the Blackfish, said with a smile, "Are you feeling alright? Lord Umber seemed to be having quite a fit when he left your tent."

"Aye, he was." Robb agreed, "His long march from Harrenhal hasn't been kind on his manners."

"Were there that many to be kind to?" came a familiar voice.

Rob turned to face Maege Mormont with a laugh, "I suppose not," he turned to Oberyn, "Have Ser Brynden and his outriders returned?"

"No, your grace," the swarthy man replied, "But they shouldn't be long now."

"Good, we should by less then a half day's march from the Golden Company."

"Aye," Lady Mege agreed, "We're almost ready to march. By the time Brynden arrives, we should have broken camp."

Robb nodded, and then noticed the young man on the horse approaching Oberyn, "Lord Edric, it's good to see you."

The young man looked nervously at him, giving a small bow, "And you, your grace."

"Lord Edric has agreed to stay with rearguard this battle, if there is a battle." Oberyn answered Robb's unasked question, "He is still too young to fight."

The young man had a flash of anger across his face before it was replaced again with his shy fear of Robb. He decided to go easy on him, "Good, we need someone to be able to defend the supply chain, should we need it."

The young lord smiled and puffed out his chest at the compliment, "I will serve you well, your grace." he declared as powerfully as he could.

"Very good," Robb said, adding, after noticing Edric's peculiar expression, "have you more to say?"

"Y..your grace," he began, desperate for any hint of composure, "Have you recieved anything about my cousin?"

Robb frowned, "Not since Maidenpool. He's taken Pyke, and is preparing to finish the conquest of the isles," he hesitated a moment, before adding, "I'm sorry. Ravens are not trained to find moving armies."

He looked down, "Thank you, your grace."

He tried to think of something to cheer the boy, when Brynden arrived, "King Robb," he began, "The Golden Company is camped less than three leagues from here, near the ruins of the Whispers. We've prepared as you asked."

"Good, are the men ready for a fight?" he asked the approaching form of Edmure Tully.

"Yes, your grace," he replied with a smile.

Robb nodded again, "Good, Lady Mormont, is camp broken as promised?"

"Aye, your grace."

Robb gave a small smile, "Well then, ser Brynden, prepare our plan. As for the rest of us, we march." he announced, and rode to lead the formin column of men.

It was a few hours before they arrived at the cliff side clearing which overlooked the ruins of the ancient fortress. The ruins were covered by forest and a mist so thick you couldn't see the stones that made it, but there was a clearing that gave room to maneuver between the godswood that formed the wood and the wood which made up the peninsula. Robb saw on the other side of the great, narrow clearing, an army with banners of black and gold, and black and red.

Robb raised an arm, inciting a chain of orders that lead to his force lining into battle formation. He watched as the cavalry moved in front of the heavy foot, while the spear and lightly armed northmen formed flanks. His honor guard closed around him as he rode to the head of the cavalry. He turned to the battlefield, where, as he expected, he saw a cavalry unit riding under a peace banner. Robb gave a signal to Dacey Mormont, who raised a similar banner as the honor guard rode towards the newcomers.

Robb studied them as they approached. There was a older man, with Red hair and the sigil of two Griffins in red and white, who Robb knew from the reports he'd received to be Jon Connington. There was another, with the golden skulls of the golden company hung around his neck, who could only be the Commander-General. Then, there was the last member of the guard of note. He was wearing dark armor, with a single, three headed yellow dragon etched in the center. His hair was silver-white, his eyes purple. _This can only be Aegon._

"The young wolf come to bow to the true king?" asked Connington.

Robb snarled, and Macey countered "Brave words from one so outnumbered as yourself."

"Peace, Lord Connington," plead the white haired man, before he turned to face Robb, "I am Aegon of House Targaryen, son of Rhaegar and Elia of Dorne, rightful king of the seven kingdoms."

Robb gave a small nod, "I am Robb of house Stark, King in the North and the Riverlands."

Connington looked as if he would say something, when Oberyn came forward, eyes shining with relived grief, "You are the son of Elia?"

Aegon shot his head around to see the dornishmen, but Jon Connington spoke before he could, "Who are you to demand anything of the king?"

Oberyn smiled, "You do not recognize me, Lord Connington? would you recognize my sister, either?"

Jon's face suddenly shown with recognition, "Prince Oberyn? Why do you ride with the wolf?"

Oberyn lowered his gaze, "The wolf rides against my enemies."

"Enough, Lord Connington," the white haired man demanded again, before turning and giving a bow to Oberyn, "Prince Oberyn Martell, you served my father well. For that I thank you."

"Yes, I did serve him. And for my service he betrayed my sister's love and let her and her children die." Oberyn replied with hate building in his eyes.

The young dragon frowned, noticing he said children and not child, "I am sorry for my father's actions. I promise you, I will give you your vengeance."

"You offer me my vengance?" Oberyn asked, feigning amusement, "The young wolf has offered much the same. And he's proven able to deliver it."

Robb had heard enough, "Why do you ride, Aegon of house Targaryen?"

"To re claim my rightful throne." he replied with fire in his eyes, "The throne of the seven kingdoms. Of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the first men."

Greatjon Umber harumphed, "I only count three kingdoms, your grace. Seems to me he'd be a bad king, for all his skill at counting." He said, being sure that he acknowledged Robb and not Aegon.

Jon Connington growled, "Speak that way of the king again, and I'll have your head."

Umber grabbed his axe, and Connington his sword, Before either could move, they were stopped by a low growl. Umber relaxed his axe, and Connington and Aegon looked around themselves, trying to find the source of the noise. Robb spoke in a low voice, "A threat against my bannermen is a threat against me." Connington stopped in fear as he saw the lurking form of Grey Wind appear and disappear between the horses of the northern lords, "I would control your words Jon Connington, lest someone believe them."

Aegon's eyes widened as he saw the form of the direwolf for the first time, "You... If you join me, I will give you all you desire. Swear fealty, and you will have your vengeance on the Lannisters. Your father's name will be avenged."

Robb cocked his head, "You are outnumbered. I have your strength four times over here alone. Tens of thousands more ride under my banners and those of my allies in the Riverlands, the Reach, and Dorne. What could you give me that I cannot have myself?"

Aegon's frown tightened, "Anything within the power of the Iron Throne can be yours, Lord Stark."

"I only want the North." Robb replied steely.

Aegon lowered his head, "Then there will be battle?"

Robb nodded, "Unless you surrender, or turn your armies around, aye."

Aegon looked at Oberyn, "You will fight against your own blood, uncle?"

The red viper's eyes narrowed, "You are no blood of mine" he let the statement hang in the air.

Aegon lowered his head in submission, "Very well then."

Jon Connington looked enraged, "Traitors!" he shouted over Grey Wind's continued growl, "I hope you aren't counting on those men you sent to flank us, Lord Stark. We've blocked the way behind us, they won't save you."

Robb gave a false frown, "You are lucky you ride under a peace banner. Honor demands I not kill you here. It will not be so soon." And he led his party back to the waiting army. _My plan has worked thus far, he think's I've sent my strength around to flank him._ In truth he only sent five thousand light horsemen under north, so that they could block any attempts to retreat towards Westeros, leaving only their ships as a possible exit. _I need them to leave once they've been defeated._

Robb rode to lead his cavalry. He turned to face the battlefield, and started his steed at a cantor, which the other horsemen followed. He knew that tactics would demand a different course of action, where archers dueled each other in a skirmish before the real fighting began, but in the narrows between the misty godswoods and the other forests, a decisive victory in the charge would equate a major victory, or so Robb had hoped they would think. He smiled as he saw the golden company's horses follow suit, riding in front of the battle line, prepared for an opening charge.

The moved closer, and Robb could see his men tense. He saw Grey Wind crouch lower, to gain more speed, he felt his own breath deepen and his heart rate quicken. They moved ever closer, and the golden company men were clearer. Closer, he saw none other than Connington himself lead the charge. Closer, the point where the charge would become a gallop was seconds away. Closer, The golden Company began their gallop. Closer, he raised his arm, ordering a halt.

His horsemen stopped suddenly. And Robb watched as the Golden Company commander attempted to order a similar halt, seeing some sort of trick. But they were moving ot quickly, and their attempts at halting left them stuttering, some horses tripping in surprise at the sudden change in orders. That was when the first flaming arrows sprouted from the side of the enemy charge.

_Well done, uncle Brynden._ The rivermen, hidden from the great mists that clung to the godswoods, fired volley after volley into the knightly charge. Robb smiled as he saw the charge turn into a retreat, as there came the sound of a distant horn. The company infantry began charging into the treeline, turning so they could fight with their pikemen first. Robb turned to Greatjon Umber, who smiled and raised a horn to his lips.

With the blasting noise of the horn, Robb began the charge again, quickly forming into a gallop. He led them towards the retreating mass of cavalry, and watched the arrows stop in response. The golden company's infantry, however, attempted to wheel around to face them, while their archers shout into the mists. But more arrows rained into the backs of the infantry, and they split to deal with both threats.

Robb ordered the infantry to attack, and they began a charge towards their company counterparts. It was then that Robb's men caught up with the regrouping remnants of the company's mounted division. He saw they lost perhaps half their strength to the rain of arrows, leaving a thousand riders left to flee, most of whom were clearly the squires who had been riding behind their masters.

Robb's cavalry wedge broke through quickly. Robb himself took no blows as his blade slashed into horse sides and men's necks. Before long, he found himself riding on the other side, his wedge having broken through their lines.

He wheeled his men around, seeing that his infantry had begun their attack, taking advantage of the gap between either half of the confused company men. The company knight's wheeled too, but with a clear lack of command issued. _Connington must have fallen._

His assumption was proven wrong as he saw the exiled knight ride to the head of their cavalry, an arrow sprouting from his side. He saw, riding next to him, the black armored form of Aegon.

Robb ordered a charge, and the two sides clashed, half of Robb's men charging into the infantry of the company, the other half into the remaining cavalry. He was in the center of the two, and before long he was unhorsed by a luck spear into his mount's neck. His wolf protected him as he stood up once more, seeing the form of Aegon Targaryen charging at him. His honor guard got there first, Oberyn placing a spear in the horses side, causing him to fall as Robb did. Oberyn and Dacey quickly tried to form a defensive circle, and Robb was stunned by the dornishman's ability. He floated through the infantry, cutting down men in swathes, only stopping at the men he knew to be under the alliance's command. Grey Wind fought behind Robb, keeping him as safe from being flanked. Robb finished off one unwary attacker with a quick blow before he found the form of Aegon once more.

Robb glowered at him, and Aegon charged. The dragon's first blow caught on the wolf's blade, Robb using his elbow to knock him backwards. Aegon sent another blow towards Robb, which was parried quickly, and Robb used the blunt side of his blade to send him backwards again.

A spear came close to Robb, but was quickly flung away by Grey Wind tackling the wielder, ripping into his throat. Robb saw the battle-hardened men of the golden company began to retreat from the simple mass of arms being thrown at them. Many avoided Robb entirely, fearing his direwolf guardian, but Aegon attacked once more.

There was another blow to the left, which was parried and followed with a similar blow which caught Aegon's side. Robb was somewhat surprised by how inexperienced the young dragon was. _Has he ever fought in a battle before?_

"Your grace!" came the voice of Maege Mormont. Robb looked up to see Jon Connington charging him, lance aimed at his chest. Out of his periphery came a spear, which cut the horse down, sending the rider down under it. Oberyn Martell leapt over him, and collected his spear from the side of the horse. Robb noticed the cleared field on his right, and turned to see if the same was true of his left.

Robb turned just in time to see Aegon had charged him once more. He raised his sword just in time to parry a massive strike. Robb quickly spun his blade to catch the hilt of Aegon's, forcing his sword from his grasp. _Thank you, Jon, for helping me with that one. _Aegon looked wide eyed at him as Robb quickly spun around him to send his blade into the young dragon's calf, knocking him to his knees. The man reached to his belt, but Robb sent a pommel blow into his helm, knocking it off and sending the would-be king sprawling into the dirt.

Robb took the opportunity to inspect the battlefield. The entirety of the Golden Company now seemed to be fleeing the field, as his infantry had managed to force them into disarray in the woods. The chaos allowed the lightly armed Northmen to outmaneuver the heavily armed golden company, while the cavalry outflanked the rest of the infantry, forcing them into equal chaos. _Good, everything went according to plan._ He turned his gave to the man in the dirt, who, he noticed, was bleeding from his legs.

Robb put his blade to the man's neck, and looked at Oberyn, who nodded. He raised his blade, when he heard a gurgling shout rise over the din of the ending battle, "Stop! You can't!"

Robb turned to see the form of Jon Connington, sprawled under his horse, with a single hand raised towards him. Oberyn looked furiously at the man, "Why not?"

"Because," the exiled knight gasped on blood, "He is your blood, wolf." And with that, the man died.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

There was a call for Robb being a badass, and I hope this delivers. If anyone complains about battle tactics, this was more or less directly based on the tactics of the Battle of Agincourt. It was also simulated using Medieval 2 Total War, so if that ain't good enough for you, I don't know what is.

As for anyone who's like, "Why would Oberyn let Elia's son get killed?" I tried to make it at least inferable that Oberyn doesn't think Aegon is actually Elia's son, for the same reason he thinks Jon is Ashara's son. I hope you liked this one, cuz it was really fun to write. As for the name of this battle, I'm between battle of the Whispers and Aegon's stand. Right, I think that covers it.

To sexyevilempress276: I agree, it's fantastic!

To Pendalf: After extensive research, I found no reason to believe that Ashara would be either with or far from Ned at the time of Jon's conception. There's kind of this void of time there, which was before the rebellion started but after Harrenhal. He was in the Eyrie, but if Ashara loved him, maybe she went to meet him? I dunno.

To Guest: I think probably, but at the time Jon was more concerned with protecting Dany then killing Euron, so the bond meant Ghost too wanted Dany safe more than Euron dead.

To karthik9: You've been saying this a lot. I'm grateful, but still.

To Nofate2608: Aw, I'm glad I helped your day! Also, thank you for the link. I've been using that for research, but sometimes I just don't do enough of it. Also, that was a typo, 'her' was meant to be 'your,' so, yeah. But thanks for everything!

To nappus: Yeah, rape is... well, suffice it to say, I'm not keen on writing it nor about it. And yeah, Dany always is written like she's so crazy and power mad it dehumanizes her.

As for Connington, yes, but in this version, where Aegon was actually for real killed, Varys would still want him to raise the heir to the kingdoms, so he would have sent him there. That may come up in the story but it doesn't feel like a spoiler, so I don't feel bad saying it here. Also, yeah, Ned wouldn't be a jerk. So I fixed it.

To Fejstroll: I guess so, but still, it'd of added so much dimension to the story. Ah oh well. I think it was an important chapter more than a good one, so I'm glad you agree. And hating Dany is justified, in the books she's a jerk.

This chapter is the beginning of what I'm doing with Aegon Starkgaryen, I hope you appreciate it.

Also, yes, you're correct. Who could possibly skin change into a dragon, except a Targaryen or Bran the man? (This may be an important plot point)


	44. Davos I

**Davos**

The sea was rough, but Davos smiled. He hadn't been to sea since the retaking of King's Landing, having to flee to Dragonstone with Shireen and her mother. Then he lead his fleet to Tarth, where he'd been at port for moons before he got the order to help his lord take Massey's Hook.

The boat turbulated left, and Davos looked at the small pile of papers on top of his table. He frowned at them, leering over them as if they were cursed. He opened one, and tried to read the first sentence. _There... was a bee... beautif... beautiful ladie... lady... nam... named... Alar ee... Alarie._

He cursed and looked away from the parchment. _The princess will be furious with me. _He had promised after he left her back on the isle. He promised he would read in the interim, but he never seemed to get around to it. The papers never left his desk, though. They were written by the princess herself, he knew how important it would be to her that he at least tried to read them.

He heard a bell toll. Once...twice... five times. Shouldn't be too long now until they hit Dragonstone. That was where they would resupply the fortress and prepare for the final leg of the journey. He was glad that this part was almost over, knowing how much convincing it had taken to get Stannis to allow it.

_It had been at Sharp Point, not long ago. They had been besieging the castle when it went over to the side of the Lannisters. Salladhor's ships put a ladder over the walls, and the men on the boats stormed the castle. It didn't take long before the lord surrendered, and I opened the gates for Stannis. He ordered the poor boy burned to his god, and raised his banner of the battlements._

_They went to the Lord's Solar after the fight, and Stannis and he looked over the table. Davos had hesitated to speak, but Stannis spoke first, "We're outnumbered."_

"_Yes, your grace, but we have the best position to retake the capitol. We got word that Tywin Lannister has marched his men west, to reclaim his homelands. "_

"_Yes," agreed Stannis, his eyes enraged, "But we will not attack the capitol, yet."_

_Davos was shocked, "But, your grace, this is our only chance! If this is your red woman whispering in your ear again..."_

"_Melisandre has left." Stannis said coldly, his eyes giving nothing away._

_Davos' eyes widened, not daring to believe what he just hear, "What?"_

"_She left north, the Lord of Light called her." Stannis explained._

_Davos was overjoyed, but only nodded, "Very well then, your grace. But why won't we take the capitol?"_

_Stannis grimaced, "Because Joffrey isn't in the capitol."_

_Davos looked surprised, "Your grace?"_

"_Joffrey Waters has been taken by his mother to their refuge in Duskendale. We can end this war there, not in King's Landing." Stannis said, gritting his teeth._

_Davos looked shocked, "You can't mean to kill a child?"_

_Stannis looked him in the eye, "I can, lord Davos, I can."_

_Davos rebounded, "That's... How do you even plan on marching there? You can't just march around King's Landing."_

"_I don't mean to march there, I don't mean to go there at all."_

_Davos understood what he implied, and shook his head, "No, your grace, I'm sorry but I can't kill children!"_

"_King's Landing is defended by twenty thousand men." Stannis roared, "Duskendale is defended by a handful of Kingsguard and and small garrison. If we attack King's Landing, thousands will die, thousands of children will be left without fathers, thousands of sisters without brothers, not to mention the countless children who will die when we enter the city. If we attack Duskendale, one child and his mother die. That is all." Stannis said, his voice iron. But then, in something Davos had never seen before, his expression softened, "Capture them. I will give them a fair trial, as is right."_

_Davos smiled, "Thank you, your grace. It is the right thing to do."_

_Before Davos could leave, he heard a voice come from behind him, "Davos?" He turned to see Stannis' pained face, "You're a good man."_

"_Thank you, your grace." and Davos left._

Davos looked at the door to the cabin. He heard shouting from above, and left to see the fortress of Dragonstone looming overhead.

He smiled, and began barking orders to bring into port. Davos felt a fear wash over him, and couldn't help but have a feeling of doom. He looked at the fire on a brazier of the sea-slick ship, hoping that whatever gods there were were watching over Stannis. _They only know he needs it._

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

So there's a reason why this too long and was really, stupid short. As it turns out, I can't write Davos. I'm going to try not to in the future because of this. The main issue here wasn't the content, which was shaky, I'll admit, but the execution. Davos, to me, just has such a voice and I just couldn't get it to work. Anyway, I hope you like the slow buildup to the next battle, which is still a ways off, I'm afraid. Not sure what's next. I feel like we've had enough Jon, Dany and Robb, so Margaery, maybe? Tyrion? Lemme know what y'all would like. (Whatever happens, Nedric Dayne is next. He's had a lot to think about recently, and he's going to be very important very soon.)

To Ojha: The spider! Now there's a character we haven't heard from in a while.

To ForceFiend: Thank you! I agree, this one was fun to write.

To Falconer: Are you implying that 11 year olds can't hold their own against the golden company with a mace? Yeah, I meant Dacey, actually

To Huh: Um... Sorta? He thinks (correctly) that Aegon isn't Elia's son, and as it turns out he is Lyanna's. Jon is Ned and Ashara Dayne's son, so yes, they are both at least a little Stark. But, as it turns out, Aegon is bastard born, as far as anyone knows. So he isn't Aegon Targareyon, he's Aegon Waters. Or Sand. Or Snow. I'm not certain what naming convention would be for the bastard of a northerner and a crownlander born in Dorne would be.


	45. Tyrion VIII

**Tyrion**

The one advantage of being a prisoner in Riverrun was the wine. The best Arbor Gold he'd ever had was somehow locked away in these kitchens, an act which he highly suspected the Queen of Thorns was responsible for. Olenna Tyrell was an... odd presence. She had a way of getting what she wanted, including, vitally, the ability to know exactly how the war was going.

He'd felt very isolated in this castle, something only the Tyrell woman managed to rectify. He supposed that this was the punishment or his family's being on the wrong side of the war, but it helped that this meant he was no use to anyone who wished him to be implicated in some plot or another his dear family hatched up. He was okay with that.

He sat there, in the great hall, drinking the last drops of a wine bottle he'd only recently started. It was his first of the day, but it did soothe him as he went about reading another of the many books of Riverrun's mighty library. The maester had been very excited to help him, which made him suspect that there was a lack of want for books in the castle. It had helped after King Willas declared he could wander the halls without guard, as he could find more comfortable positions, one with fewer vantage points to kill him from. That provided some comfort.

"Good morning, Lord Tyrion." came a voice that startled him enough to nearly spill on the old tome.

He turned to see the Queen in the North walking daintily towards him, "Your grace, good morning" This was a rare encounter. The Queen seemed not to be interested in a disinherited dwarf, preferring far more ambition ties to the north.

She gave him a smile, "Early for wine, don't you think?"

He laughed, "It's never too early for wine, your grace."

She gave a wistful smile, "For you, I imagine not. For me, it will be too early for wine for many moons yet." she said, giving a glance at her showing belly.

Tyrion nodded his head, "Yes, I do remember reading that it is best for a woman expecting not to... partake, shall we say."

She laughed, "Yes, that it is."

Tyrion looked back to his book for a moment, before noticing the Queen was still there, still watching him, "I'm terribly sorry, your grace, is there something you needed of me?"

Margaery thought for a moment, before responding, "Have you thought of taking a wife, Lord Tyrion?"

"Would you accompany me to the gardens? I could use some company, and I've heard you are a capable wit, my Lord." Margaery requested with a smile that made Tyrion very suspicious.

Tyrion narrowed his eyes, "Very well, I'd be happy to see how this plays out."

He walked with her, arm in arm, to the courtyard and onwards to the gardens. She spoke in a happy voice, which did nothing to ease his doubts, How have you been, sitting in my dear husband's uncle's house?"

"As good as any prisoner could hope for, I suppose. Certainly an improvement on the King's cousin's house. Though, not with quite the same view."

"You stayed in the Eyrie?"

"I was a prisoner in the eyrie, in one of the sky cells. It was a beautiful view of the mountains, though a less beautiful view of the rocky demise that would meet you should you misstep." Tyrion said with a wry smile.

Margaery chuckled, "Oh you must tell me more."

"Well, I..." he was cut off by the sudden appearance of the Queen of Thorns, lounging in the gardens. _So this is her plot._

"Grandmother, what a wonderful surprise," in a voice which betrayed that there was no surprise at all.

Olenna smiled, "Granddaughter, you brought a guest to my little corner of the gardens. Good day, lord Tyrion."

"Good day, Lady Olenna. Your grace, I cannot help but feel you have led me into a trap."

Margaery gave away nothing, "Whatever do you mean?"

Lady Olenna only laughed, "She may well have. My granddaughter has always been one to play little games. Though this is one she is not playing with me, I'm afraid I'm as in the dark as you are, Lord Tyrion." she said, her eyes twinkling.

Margaery looked as taken aback as possible, "Well, now, here was I trying to enjoy a nice walk through the gardens when I'm met with accusations of false doings. I think I shall leave you two now, thank you." The queen declared before turning heel and walking away faster than Tyrion thought possible for a pregnant woman.

Olenna laughed, "It would seem my dear granddaughter has some nefarious scheme set to hatch. Tell me, what is it she spoke to you about before sending you here?"

Tyrion looked around, bewildered by the sudden course of events, "If I were to marry, of all things. I can't imagine how a dwarf with no titles or inheritance would marry, at least anyone of interest."

Olenna raised an eyebrow, "But do you?"

"Wish to marry?" Tyrion asked, "I suppose." He thought of Shae for the first time in a long time. _What had become of her after the battle?_ He shuddered to think what terrible things must have happened in the middle of a war he brought her into.

Olenna responded with a smirk, "Given your current position I imagine it will be your only opportunity to bed again."

Tyrion smirked, "No, not many whores in the castle, as far as I can tell."

"No, indeed," Olenna responded, "Thank the seven for that. It certainly improves the smell."

Tyrion raised an eyebrow, "With so many flowers in the castle, I would imagine no matter what it would smell quite pleasant."

Olenna's eyes narrowed at the comment, "This is a castle of fish. I imagine the two fragrances balance each other out."

Tyrion laughed, before looking back, "Why did you have Margaery bring me here?"

"I'm not entirely sure what you mean."

"I am entirely sure you are entirely sure what I meant."

Olenna smiled, "You are too clever for your own good, Lord Tyrion."

Tyrion smiled, "Well then, I imagine you have some bride picked out for me."

"A few, actually. All of whom would chafe at the opportunity to marry the Lord of Casterly Rock..."

Tyrion interrupted, "You see, that's where I start to wonder. Because, in case you're wondering, my father, Lord Tywin Lannister is the lord of the rock while I, Tyrion Lannister, am disinherited."

Olenna raised an eyebrow, "Your father dropped you from the line of succession?"

Tyrion shrugged, "He certainly wanted to. I imagine I left in too much a hurry for the chance."

"Then you are still heir. By all the laws of men, you will inherit the rock after your father." Olenna replied, with a devious smile, "And we would aim to help you."

"Yes, I imagine you would. Offer me my rightful hold with the promise of taking a wife?"

Olenna smiled, "Something like that, yes. I imagined you would like a younger bride, so I found a few available candidates. All from the reach, as you may expect."

Tyrion frowned, "Even if I could hold the rock, I would first need to take it before I was an eligible bachelor."

Olenna nodded, "Which will occur in due time. I simply wished to know if you were interested, you could receive our support."

Tyrion nodded, "Yes, and what would you gain from this?"

Olenna smiled deviously, "What else, other than the benefit of a friendly house ruling the Westerlands. Perhaps, as their king."

_King? That is their plan,_ "I shall think on it, my lady. Now, I'm afraid I will take my leave of you."

Tyrion left the gardens feeling the gears turn in his head. He decided to walk through the courtyard, and let himself think through what had just transpired. _A lady of the reach and a kingdom? Perhaps Olenna likes me more than she let on._ He was certain, of course, that there would be more demands and worse, expectations of him when he became lord in her plans, but that hardly distracted him. What did distract him was suddenly being shoved by a serving boy, "Oh pardon me," he said mindlessly before noticing the small pouch of gold in the boy's hands, "Wait, come back!"

He chased after the boy, into a long complex of halls, calling desperately for guards who seemed to not hear. When he finally found the boy, he was in a dark room deep in Riverrun's bowels, and saw a familiar face greet him, "Lord Varys?"

"Lord Tyrion, it is good to see you. I imagine you'll be wanting this back." he said handing him back the small pouch of gold he carried, just in case.

Tyrion took it, looking suspiciously at the eunuch, "What is it you're doing here? Surely the small council will notice your absence?"

"I'm afraid the small council has all but disbanded. Queen Cersei dismissed Petyr and I after the court fled the capital. Only Pycell remains." Varys responded with mock decorum.

"I'm certain that pains you." Tyrion replied, noticing the small table the former master of whispers sat at, and joining him.

"To an extent," Varys admitted.

Tyrion raised an eyebrow, "Then what have you been up to since then?"

Varys smiled, "Oh, I've been here or there since then."

Tyrion smiled, "Have you? Then tell me, why are you here bothering a poor prisoner in a foreign castle?"

Varys raised an eyebrow, "So you are a prisoner? The council wasn't so certain last I spoke to them."

"The council believed I would willingly trap myself in an enemy castle?" Tyrion asked, knowing it was a poor excuse.

"Didn't you?" Varys asked. Tyrion didn't answer, and Varys sighed, "Regardless, the lack of small council has not depleted my thirst for knowledge."

"No, I would imagine not." Tyrion said, suspiciously, "You said Littlefinger left? Where has he gone?"

"The Vale, it would seem. He seems to have created quite a rapport with Lady Arryn, though I have not spoken to him during that time."

_Probably fucking his dead, beloved Catelyn's sister._ "That's good then, I suppose."

"It's certainly something," Varys commented, "But I worry he wishes to bring yet more chaos to Westeros."

"That would be tragic indeed," Tyrion commented, "As if we hadn't had enough."

"Indeed," replied Varys, "I would like to ensure that the realm not fall into that path again."

"And you want me to help you ensure that by becoming one of your little birds, yes I can imagine." Tyrion replied with a smile.

Varys frowned, "You are quite little, but I think I would rather you in a different role."

Tyrion wasn't certain about the deal the spider wanted, but he what he did know is that he wouldn't play fair, "Which is?"

"You would inform me on the going ons in Riverrun, so that when the rightful king takes the throne, he can know what transpired here."

"That being?" Tyrion looked at the man.

Varys smiled, "I thought you knew how this game was played, lord Tyrion."

"I do," he replied, "And I know you support neither the Lannisters nor Stannis, which leaves Robb. Ah but, King Robb is king only of the north."

"It is as you say," Varys replied, "I was speaking more in the figurative sense, my lord."

"No, I don't think you were," replied Tyrion, "I think you support another candidate. One who has yet to rear his head." _Or who has recently reared his head._

"I have said many times, I support only the realm," Varys replied curtly.

"And yourself," Tyrion nodded, "But I believe that may have changed. Recently or not, I cannot say."

Varys shrugged, "I seem to have no defence to soothe you, my lord." _It must be him, there's no one else it could be._

"None save the truth, Lord Varys." Tyrion replied.

Varys smiled, "You yourself once told me that men often thirst for the truth but when they drink they do not like the taste."

"I did say that," Tyrion acknowledged, "I say many things. As do you, yet you still haven't said who it is you think is the rightful king."

Varys shook his head, and rose, "I can see this is going no where."

"Neither is your king." Tyrion said, eyes twinkling.

"Pardon, my lord?"

"Aegon, he has been captured by King Robb at the Whispers." Tyrion replied with a smile, "Hadn't you heard?"

Varys frowned, "You believe him to be my king?"

"I don't believe it, I'm certain of it." Tyrion lied, "Where was it you agreed to meet after the battle? Somewhere west of Crackclaw, I'm certain. Rosby, perhaps? or Maidenpool? Perhaps Duskendale after a successful capture of the former royal family."

Varys thought for a moment, before deciding, "Supposing you were correct, and supposing he could escape and be put on Iron Throne, he might be in need of friends."

"I imagine he would." Tyrion countered.

Varys thought a moment before continuing, "Supposing you were to offer your support in exchange for your rightful seat of Casterly Rock, I doubt he would oppose you."

Tyrion nodded, "Yes, I imagine so." he leaned back in his chair, "But given that the Starks have offered me the same, and given he has no army and no lands, and King Robb has an army and lands, I wouldn't be inclined to accept."

Varys frowned, "Regardless, the offer stands."

Tyrion laughed, "You are supporting the wrong claimant, Lord Varys. But thank you for the break in the monotony." he said, and he rose.

As he made to leave out the long passage of corridors, he heard from behind him, "There have been troubling rumors of your brother. I would be glad of having a castle wall to protect me."

Tyrion whirled around but the room was empty. _Seven hells._

He made his way out of the corridors, walking leisurely, thinking of what the spider had told him. Before long he reached his rooms, and pulled out some parchment and a ink well and pen, and began writing a letter to Bronn. His offer was clear, rejoin his service, and become lord of Fang Tower.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

Not thrilled with the ending, but I like the majority of it. I don't have a ton to say, other than that this is meant to be Tyrion reentering the game and trying to find new ways to play from captivity. The next is gonna be a Edric chapter, then will have to be a Jon or Dany chapter, there's just no two ways about it. Then Robb then another Edric or maybe a Davos. Oh yeah, I started a new story using the OC charachters no one wanted in this one, so if y'all want, check it out. It's all as cannonical as possible, down to the house name being real house names and the backstories fitting in with the extant ones. I'm sorry there's a character who's a smith, but I promise he's not too marty-sueish, at least I tried really hard for him to be.

To Ojha: Sorry it's so late, I had to work a bunch and started a new story. If you want, check that out.

To RandyKaguyaofthewasteland: I dunno. People didn't like it, so I changed it. But given everything, I don't think it's a bad change.

To liferscove2118: I'm gonna cover both reviews here. Yeah killing those two off caused some folks pain and gave me much joy. I regret nothing. And thank you forreading my story, I'm glad you enjoyed it.

To Fejstroll: Aegon was there, he needed to be dealt with. Why not have him revealed early? They do have Blackfyre, but it was a huge sword and Aegon's kinda not cut out for fighting with such a blade, so Robb didn't notice it being carried on his back. I dunno if we'll get a new POV, if only because there's story involving the folks who have been POVed to last us at least until the next big battle.


	46. Edric II

**Edric**

"Lord Edric," the boy lord suddenly shot up straight at the sound of the royal voice flooding the room he had taken in the small castle.

He turned and knelt, "Your grace," before looking up to see the face of Robb Stark, who held out a hand bidding him return to his chair.

"May I sit?" he asked, which Edric answered with a frantic nod.

The king sat, looking around the modest room, "I apologize, my lord, for so quaint an accommodation. Would that there were more rooms in Rook's Rest for all the lords here."

"It's perfectly alright, your grace. We've been here for a little while, so I won't have to be here for much longer." _Please don't think I meant something by that._ To Edric's relief, the king he so admired just smiled.

"I heard you received word from my brother." Robb said, looking down at the paper Lord Edric had been reading again, how many times he had read he no longer remembered.

"Yes, your grace," Edric admitted, averting his eyes, "My cousin is doing well, from what I can tell."

The King in the North nodded, "That's good, then. But what of your other cousin?"

"Darkstar?" Edric asked, fearing it would come to this, "I don't know. My aunt tells me he's still in Dorne. But if he finds out about Jon, then he'll probably come north."

"To fight for him or against him?" Robb demanded quickly.

"I think he means to kill him." Edric answered sadly.

Robb cocked his head to the side, "So he can be Sword of the Morning?"

"So he doesn't have competition, yes." Edric answered.

Robb sighed, "Another vicious southron to deal with. At least it's nothing new." he looked around the room, "Tell me, do you wish to go home?"

Edric looked surprised, "Your grace?"

"You are hardly old enough to fight in the van, but you could squire for some knight if you wish." The King in the North studied the lord of Starfall carefully, "Prince Oberyn has offered as much. But I won't blame you if you want to be as far away as possible from this war."

Ned hesitated, "I don't want to be seen as abandoning your cause, your grace."

Robb looked amused, "I have enough men here to spare a you, my Lord. I would understand if you never want see a battlefield again," his eyes glazed over for a second and he paused before saying, "I know I don't."

Edric shuddered at the memory of the fights he'd been on with Lord Dondarrion. _What would he say, I having abandoned him?_ He thought of his cousins, the prince and the knight, both storied, and him, a nobody, just a boy caught in the middle of a war, "I want to stay."

The King in the North raised an eyebrow, "Are you certain?" Edric nodded, and Robb sighed, "Then you will be squire for Prince Oberyn Martell."

Edric knelt, "Thank you, your grace."

The king looked exhausted from the formalities, "Yes, very well." he rose to leave when a knock came on the door, "Enter."

Oberyn Martell entered, looking jovial as always, "Your grace, you question my brother's bannerman without my presence?"

King Robb raised an eyebrow, "I was offering him a ship to leave for home."

"And he refused," Oberyn guessed correctly, "I told you as much, but you did not believe me." The king sighed, and Oberyn laughed, "Ned, I see you have become as stubborn as your father and uncle were. That is good, it will serve you well as it did your kinsmen."

Robb had had enough of being made a fool of, "Yes. He has taken your offer of squireing, prince Oberyn."

Oberyn smiled, "That is good. One dornishmen was enough to ensure your every victory. With two we will conquer Westeros in a matter of days."

Robb smiled, "Then I will leave you two to strategize." Robb rose and left the room to the two men of dorne.

Oberyn's smile faded as soon as the door shut behind Robb, "That was stupid."

Ned looked stunned, "But you said..."

"I know what I said, boy," Oberyn said, clearly mad with him, "Read this." he said, slamming a letter on the table he sat at.

_Brother,_

_The knight Gerold Dayne has attempted to kill Myrcella Waters. He makes for Starfall to claim Dawn. If the Northern Prince wishes to claim it, he must move quickly. Yronwood has cornered the commander. The old hawk has flown to Summerhall._

_Doran_

"Myrecella Waters?" Ned asked looking at the prince.

"Yes, now pay attention, Ned," he said, sitting down, "You must go back to Starfall, and go quickly. Darkstar wants to bring us to war against the northerners, as well as the Lannisters. You being means he can do that."

"He can't get Dawn."

"No," Oberyn agreed, "He can't. If you get there first, take the blade and bring back north with you."

Ned shook his head, "I thought I was leaving the north?"

Oberyn smiled grimly, "Only for a while, then you must meet your cousin with Dawn. That will tie our kingdoms together, and ensure that the Reach will not attack us. I have found the fastest ship Aegon's company took, if you board now you'll reach Starfall before Darkstar can."

Edric didn't understand, but nodded, "I will, my prince."

Oberyn smiled, putting his hand on the boy's shoulder, "I will think of some lie to tell the king. And thank you, Ned. You bring honor to your house." he looked out the window to see the boat in harbor, "They will depart soon, we must go."

And so Ned left the army of King Robb Stark.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

It's quick, but Ned needed to leave for Dorne. I hope you liked it. If Robb seemed a bit OOC, I think if he really was in the mood for formalities he would have acted differently, but he was tired from the battle and was talking to a twelve year old. Next is Jon or Dany.

To Fejstroll: Tyrion is really at the center of most of the plotting going on at the moment. He's gonna win something, at least.

To Ojha: I updated soon!

To CherryBlossoms016: I think you've got it.


	47. Jon VI

**Jon**

Great Wyk has fallen. He received the raven from Hammerhorn a fortnight ago, declaring that they would never surrender. It was only today he recieved the letter from Tormund that said that the Ironborn had been defeated, after Gorold Goodbrother had been captured. They had evidently found Aeron Greyjoy in the castle, but he had been slain by the free folk. He had received word that Harlaw had fallen as well, and there they had found Asha Greyjoy. Apparently she had escaped her death by dragonfire, only to be captured in her uncle's castle.

He sighed as he put the notes down in the lord's solar. He still didn't think of it as his, as he wasn't certain it would be_._ He turned from his desk and made his way toward the bridge that connected the keeps.

When he arrived in the Great Keep, he was approached by a squire who was hurriedly shouting, "Your grace! There's an army at the walls!"

Jon's hand instinctively went to Longclaw, but the squire said, "It's Lord Reed, your grace. And he has the Greyjoy girl!"

_Asha._ He ran across the two stone bridges and watched as the gatehouse door opened to reveal Lord Howland, riding next to a cart with carried the Greyjoy Lady in irons.

"My Lord," Jon began, "You've captured Harlaw?"

"Aye," the dark man replied curtly, dismounting smoothly, "And we captured Lady Greyjoy"

Jon nodded, and turned to the captive, "Lady Asha."

"Oh, come to welcome me to my own home, 'ave ya? I suppose I should thank you for being so kind, given how I almost killed you last time we saw one another." she spat a string of curses at him, but he payed no mind.

"She killed five men before she was brought down, your grace," ser Braith Wint commented, "And she only did that because lord Harlaw surrendered." he said, indicating the unbound Ironborn riding next to the head of the party.

"Lock her in a cell until she's remembered how to talk to a prince." Jon ordered the men who were streaming into the castle.

More expletives came for the captured woman, which Jon ignored until he heard, "My uncle will gut you and your dragon whore."

Jon spun to face the woman, "Aeron is dead."

"I wasn't talking about Aeron," she sneered.

Jon looked at the man who was controlling the carriage, "Bring her to the solar, but keep her in chains."

After a short meeting with his commanders where he was told all that had transpired during the attack on Harlaw, Jon followed them as they made their way along the path to the Sea Tower. When they finally arrived, she was put in a chair and he in one that faced her. She sneered at him, but sat nonetheless, "Why've you brought me here, bastard?"

Jon didn't react to the insult, "How'd you escape the dragon?"

She shrugged, "The beast has terrible aim."

Jon glowered, and Ghost suddenly appeared at his side, "Where's your uncle?"

"I don't rightly know, to tell the truth," she said, clearly enjoying a game she decided to play.

Jon frowned, "With Harlaw, I have captured all save two of the Isles, Orkmont and Lonely Light. You'd do well to remember that."

"Remember a boy so hated that even the greenlanders treat him like he's no right to command anything has a few wildlings in my Isles?" she asked jeeringly, "Oh, I'll be sure to."

Jon glowered, "You remind me of your brother." he spat.

That struck a nerve with her. She frowned as if she meant it for the first time, "What do you want, greenlander?"

Jon rubbed his temples, "When I leave, someone will have to rule these isles."

She was impassive, "And you intend for me to do it? You don't understand the Old Way, greenlander."

"I understand," he began, "That you're unwed. If I marry you to a northman I ensure the Ironborn don't raid my brother's lands."

She laughed, "You think marrying me to some greenlander will let you keep the Isles? The Ironborn only follow who they want to follow."

Jon was frustrated with this woman, but he needed her to comply, "I'm offering you the seastone chair and the freedom to raid the Westerlands and Essos as you see fit. You'll be given a ship to captain and lands to reave. Surely, that would be enough for the Ironborn?" He said it as best as he could, but it wasn't his idea. After he had received word of the survival of Asha, he had written Riverrun for advice. This had been the plan he got as a reply, and he thought it was a good one.

Asha stopped laughing and looked at him. She did this for a while, and Jon realized she seemed to be focusing on his arms and chest and... other regions, "I'll play your little game, greenlander." she eventually declared, "But only if I'm to marry you."

He froze, not sure what to do next. Eventually he replied, "I'm not an option."

She raised an eyebrow "Oh? Scared of an older woman, greenlander?"

He frowned, "I'm a brother of the night's watch. I can't take a wife."

"So the dragon bitch is a whore after all?" she asked.

He scowled, "Even if she was, she would be a better option than you. I'm a prince, and a prince doesn't take a conquered Ironborn as a wife."

She shrugged, "Perhaps y'should. It'd give you a seat to rule from."

He thought about it. He did want a seat to rule, but he hated the isles. Not to mention he held no love for the woman who sat in front of him, "I refuse your offer, Lady Greyjoy. Do you accept mine?"

She though about it for a long while, "How do I know you'll make good on your word to free me?"

"You have my word as a Stark" Jon replied.

She thought for a long while, before sighing, "Fine, greenlander, you give me Pyke and I'll be your northerners wife. But know the Ironborn don't bend knee easily."

He nodded, and called to an outside servant, "Escort her to her quarters. Make sure she is properly cared for, but never let her out of sight of the guards."

After the woman left with a wicked smile on her face, he followed the long path to his room. There, Jon buried his head with his hands. _Did I just ensure another generation of Ironborn raids, or prevent it?_That was when another knock came on the door. "Enter." he bade and smiled when he saw the figure of Daenerys Targaryen enter the room.

"Jon." she greeted with a smile.

"Dany," he said, remembering not to stick to formalities, "Why are you here?"

"There's very little to do here. The Ironborn don't keep many books, and I've very few people to talk with save you and Bael." she explained, as she had many times before.

He smiled in response, "I'm glad someone thinks so."

"Who was that woman you met with?" she asked, though Jon knew she knew the answer.

He sighed, "Lady Asha Greyjoy, she came with Lord Reed who has just returned from the conquest of Harlaw."

"So she does live? I had wondered." Daenerys commented, sitting on the bed next to him, "Did you offer to marry her?"

"No," he said, "She offered to marry me, though. I refused."

Dany looked at him questioningly, "But you said you needed to, so you could secure the Isles."

He sighed, "She hasn't forgiven me the time I nearly killed her, nor when I killed her father."

A flash passed over her face, but Jon didn't catch what it was, "What shall you do?"

He shrugged, "Marry her to Tormund, I think. He's loyal enough to me, and he can be intimidating enough to get the respect of the ironborn."

She nodded, "From what you've said, it seems to make sense." He smiled faintly, and she leaned closer to him, "Do you still intend on returning to the Watch after this war ends?"

Jon frowned, and thought about it for a long while, "No," he said eventually, "I don't think so."

She smiled, and leaned into him "I'm glad."

They looked at each other, not speaking, just studying one another before Jon finally spoke, "It does mean I will have to take a wife."

She gave a glance up at him, her eyes still studying him, "Is there someone you had in mind?"

"Well..." He looked at her. Her silver hair cascaded down one shoulder, making her fair skin seem ephemeral in the fading light, "Dany I..." he was caught off by a sudden kiss.

He gave in, bringing her into his arms and laying her on the bed. She tore off his trousers and he her gown. He wasn't certain how it happened, but before long he was in her, enjoying every moment of it. After the act was over, they lay together on the bed, limbs loosely entwined, while a servant knocked on the door repeatedly, and eventually gave up.

She nuzzled his chest, and he allowed himself to feel happy for once. Moonlight lit up his chambers, and in the silver-lit clouds he saw the form a raven soar gently towards the Great Keep.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

This chapter is evidence that I have no future in the erotica industry. I dunno about this one, to be honest. I don't really like Jon in it, but I couldn't tell you why. I dunno if he's OOC or what, but I'm gonna leave it for now. Also, thoughts on marrying Tormund to Asha? I know Jon is underestimating the convincing Tormund will need, but, well, I think it would be interesting. Next is Davos. It's time we got to that battle at Duskendale, eh?

To Fejstroll: Edric doesn't plan on fighting Darkstar, he plans on racing him. The difference being Edric doesn't die this way.

To Ojha: Look, I updated again!


	48. Davos II

**Davos**

"The ships are ready, Lord Seaworth"

Davos frowned, "That's good, then. Let's go ashore"

The torches on the walls of duskendale were barely lit. From what he could see, the town was quiet. There was no signs of defence prepared, no resistance gathered. _They haven't seen us, just as Stannis planned._

He heard the distant sound of the ships preparing for disembarking, and watched as they slowly sailed to the waiting port. _They haven't even lowered the sea gate._

Finally, he heard the sound of distant screaming. A woman stood pointing at the fleet's lowly lit lights, and the people who lived on the shore began running. He turned to his mate, giving him a nod to indicate the signal being fired. A flaming arrow flew high over the fleet, and suddenly torches were lit and the extent of the attacking force was revealed. Davos turned to his mate, "They'll be rushing to get ready. Let's get in hard and fast."

The ship plowed towards the docks. The Black Betha halted at the edge of the docks, and a contingent of Stormland men jumped from the side of his ship. A voice ringed out "FOR STANNIS," which Davos turned to see was his son, Devan.

Davos watched him jump from the side of the vessel, and decided to follow him. When he reached the wooden docks below, he drew his sword and ran towards the gates. While they still stood open, he saw the defenders of the city had, slowly but surely, began to reach the front. Davos stood back on the raised docks to watch the melee unfold. The attackers kept the gates opened, while the defenders threw themselves half heartedly from sally ports. Before long, the battle became a route, and the men of Stannis Baratheon entered the city.

Davos knew he had to get to Dun Keep before the men could enter and attempt to usurp the honor of killing the royal family. The memory of the Targaryens burned in his mind. _I will not allow Stannis to become Tywin, nor allow my son to become the mountain._

He passed the melee quickly, and found his forces had begun to sack the city. The smallfolk hadn't had time to prepare, so many were running amok, desperate to flee the streets and find children and family members are attempt to reach safety.

Davos kept running down the wide road towards the hill-top keep, when he noticed two soldiers holding down a woman who tried desperately to escape, and another raise a blade to the throat of a frail old man. "STOP!" he shouted, to no avail. Davos gave a desperate look at the keep before knowing what he must do.

He ran to the knight who was about to kill the old man, and raised his blade to his neck, "Enough!" he commanded, and the man frowned but let the old man go. When he turned to the other men, he saw they had already fled, leaving the woman in the street, a river of red flowing from her neck and he groin. _This is madness._ Davos tried to think of anything, any order he could give to stop the madness. Then he realized, "TO THE KEEP!"

To his grim satisfaction, men turned from their horrors to run towards the keep and finish the battle. Davos ran towards the castle, using every ounce of strength left in his old bones to get there first.

His breath was hoarse, but he kept shouting his three word command to his men, desperate to protect as many smallfolk as he could. _I was one of them, not long ago._

He finally made it to the keep, finding the gates here had been safely shut, but men had already taken down a large wooden beam and turned it into a ram, which was faithfully destroying the mighty doors of Dun Keep. Davos examined the situation around them. He had been told by many reliable commanders that the interior of the castle would be guarded by some of the fiercest knights in the world: the Kingsguard. Aside from them, however, it seemed the defenders had abandoned the notion of defending the hopeless castle.

The castle's gates were blasted open, and his men swarmed inside, he desperately following. He was near the front when he saw the white cloaked guards descend into the charging army. Davos knew he couldn't try to face them, so he instead ducked past the knights, using the pure numbers to his advantage for distraction. He found his way to a small staircase, and followed it up. He kept ascending past the empty floors, knowing that, if this were like other keeps, the lord would be in the safest, and highest room. He arrived at the top floor, and knelt in exhaustion. He wheezed, coughing into his arm, checking and not seeing blood, "Thank the gods." he muttered as he leaned against the wall of the last corridor before the door to the room the king was in. That's when he felt the cold steel against his neck.

He raised his eyes to the sight of an imposing Kingsguard, "Who are you" he demanded.

Davos sighed, and when the man gave a confused expression, he quickly used his old smuggling sleight of hand, stepping a half step back and raising his sword enough to parry a blow.

The man raised his blade, but before the blow landed, Davos called out "Stop if you want to protect the lad."

The knight looked confused, "What are you talking about?"

Davos spoke quickly, "If you let the boy surrender now, I can keep him safe. If you kill me, the army will come in and kill him."

The knight shook his head, "You're lying."

"My name is Lord Davos Seaworth and I'm hand for King Stannis Baratheon and I swear on my name and his that I am not lying, ser." He included his honorific, hoping that it would sway the man.

The knight looked genuinely perplexed, as if he didn't know what to do in this situation. Davos heard the sound of heavy boots on the stairs, and knew it could only mean one thing, "Quickly now, at least let me see them. I can hardly kill him before you can stop me."

The knight kept looking confused, but nodded, and let him past into the door. Davos looked around the room, and saw, in a wooden chair, a beautiful blond haired woman sitting, eyes wet with tears. _The queen._

"Your grace, where is the king?" he demanded of the woman.

She said nothing, only smiling a sadistic smile. He grunted, and walked closer when he noticed the fallen figure on the ground. There was a blond boy, his eyes glazed over as he sat limp on the ground, vomit slowly pooling out of his mouth.

"What have you done?" he asked, wide eyed. _She killed her own son?_

The kingsguard saw as well, and dropped his sword in shock. The woman sat perfectly still. "Your other boy, where is he?" Davos said, remembering the other child.

The woman still said nothing, but the knight said, "Prince Tommen was sent to King's Landing today, so the King didn't have to go towards certain doom. I tried to stop them but..."

Davos turned to the man, "What's your name, ser?"

The man, jaw on the floor, managed, "Ser Balon Swann, my Lord."

Davos nodded, "Ser Balon Swann, you are a brave man." the sound of boots grew to a thunder. Davos faced the door, sword drawn, and gave one last look to the man, before preparing to face his men.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

Short, I know. But I think it was exciting enough to justify it. We'll get the interrogation of Cersei two chapters from now, which will be a _very _eventful chapter. For people who may try to complain about the Swann not killing Davos immediately, he's an honorable man who just found an elderly man trying to catch his breath and then told him he would be trying to save the royal family. I think it works, at least. Next is Margaery or Arya.

To Fejstroll: I told you in a pm why you shouldn't be concerned about Mary-Sueness in that direction, but I will merel tell everyone else, I am aware of the problem, and I will do everything to avoid that trap.

To Quindecim: I aim to surprise. Also Tormasha will be hilarious, I'm looking forward to writting it.

To Ohja: Away from the battle!

To Falconer: He does have the personality of a 13 year old's wet dream, so yeah, I get it. Jon will be absent for quite a while, as not much will be happening over there for a while that couldn't just be a note to Robb or Margaery or litterally anybody.

To seanthesheep17: A night? You read this in a night? Props man, I would not have that patience with my writing. The point of the short chapters are that I can cook these things up quickly and it helps me feel like i've accomplished something.

To CharlyAGOT: Three days? You people are fantastic. I update fairly frequently, so I hope you like that about this. I'm glad you like stuff, and I'd love to hear what you dislike about it as well.

To MechaJesus2: No, she won't. Which will suck for Oberyn.


	49. Margaery VI

**Margaery**

Margaery sat calmly in the courtyard, watching Brienne and Arya practice, Brienne was busy teaching the she-wolf to fight, "You can't let your guard down after you land a blow. Just because you hit someone, doesn't mean you killed them."

Arya looked mad, clearly still adjusting to this fighting style. Margaery had seen she hadn't completely given up her old way of fighting, being light on her feet and still using fast stabs and lightweight weapons, but had taken to heart her mentor's teachings of dodging and strength. From what Margaery could see, she was quickly becoming a fearful warrior.

Three more blows and Arya was knocked to her knees once more, panting, "Put down your shield, then we'll see who will win."

Lady Brienne frowned, "Many opponents will be carrying a shield. You can't be the best in the world until someone puts a piece of metal in your way."

Arya scowled, but got to her feet, readying her blade. Brienne shook her head, "That's enough for today." she commanded, and watched as the girl took the practice sword and put it into the sheath.

Arya walked down towards the servants who gathered the supplies and took them away. She was going to leave, but Margaery bade her come, "Arya, sweetling, come here please."

The little girl made a face, but went over to her good-sister's side, "Yes, Lady Margaery."

"I've told you, you don't have to call me Lady. Just 'Margaery is fine." she bade sweetly.

Arya shrugged, and sat on the stoop next to her, "Sorry." she said half heartedly.

Margaery smiled at her. _Such a wild child, Loras would've loved her._ Margaery threw the sad thoughts from her head, before turning to her good-sister, "Your brother sent a raven today."

Arya's eyes suddenly widened, "Robb?" she asked intently.

Margaery laughed, "Yes, and Jon also. He asked I tell you something, something that is very important, and very... well, troubling."

Arya looked questioningly at her overly honeyed words, "What is it?"

Margaery sucked her teeth, trying to thin how to phrase all the news properly, "Robb fought in a battle against invaders from Essos called the Golden Company. "

Arya gave a worried look, "Did he die?"

Margaery shook her head, "No, no, he's fine. The company was being led by a man who claimed to be Aegon Targaryen, the son of Rhaegar and Elia. He had come to reclaim his throne, and had hoped on the support of many, including Dorne." the girl had taken a liking to Arianne, who would swear with her and make bawdy japes, so she knew that this would be troubling to her.

Arya looked grim, "Did he win?"

"Yes, and he captured the man. But, he learned the man wasn't who he claimed to be." Margaery commented, calculatedly. She wasn't certain how the she-wolf would react to the rest of the news.

"Then who was he?" she asked impatiently.

Margaery sighed, "Do you remember the story of Robert's Rebellion and your aunt Lyanna?"

Arya looked like she was growing upset, "She was kidnapped by Rhaegar Targaryen and that's why my father went to war with Robert."

Margaery decided to acquiesce to the unspoken request get to the point, "Yes, well. As it turns out, Rhaegar and Lyanna had a child together during that time."

Arya looked stunned, "And this man?"

"Aegon is your cousin, Arya." Margaery said kindly, "Robb has decided to send him here to stay for the rest of the war. When it is over, he will decide what to do with him."

Arya looked contemplative briefly, before shaking her head, "Robb won't let him stay."

Margaery's eyes widened, "What?"

"He's not a Stark." Arya said coldly.

Margaery studied the girl before replying, "I'll tell Robb you said so."

The girl shrugged, "He probably already knows." she said passively.

Margaery pursed her lips, "There was something else, from your other brother"

Arya suddenly looked interested, "What did he say?"

"He... has decided to get married." she said, trying to think how to explain the sudden entwining of the dragon and wolf houses.

Arya looked disgusted, "What? Why?"

Margaery spread her hands, "Apparently Robb spoke with him at length about it. He plans on marrying soon, apparently to protect the honor of the woman he plans on wedding."

"Who is she?"

Margaery sighed, "Daenerys Targaryen, the aunt of Aegon."

Arya looked enraged, she blustered and stomped away in a fit of rage. Margaery made no attempt to go after her. _She thinks so highly of her brothers, it's no wonder that she's upset._

Margaery was thinking on this when a voice appeared, "She certainly did not seem keen on that news."

Margaery spun to see a smirking Tyrion Lannister, "Yes, she certainly did not."

The dwarf sat next to her, "You must admit that is troubling news. Even to us who are not related to the groom."

Margaery raised an eyebrow, "Oh? Why, is it trouling you?"

Tyrion's smirk was relentless, "No, but I would imagine it would concern you."

Margaery gave a non suspect look, "Why should it concern me?"

"Oh, come now, surely you see it?" Tyrion commented, "The fearsome prince of the north, who has gone north of the wall and come back with an army of giants and the beautiful exiled princess from across the sea who commands a dragon. Why, it sounds like something from a song."

Margaery shrugged, "I suppose it does, but why should such a thing concern me?"

"I suppose it shouldn't," he admitted, "That is, unless you wanted to stay Queen."

_The imp is clever, I'll give him that._ Margaery was aware of the threat to her crown, as was her grandmother, "I doubt that Jon would try to usurp Robb's crown. They are brothers through and through."

Tyrion shook his head, "Yes, but his wife has never met him, much less has any love for him. She would hardly be displeased to put her new husband on the throne."

Margaery asked, "What is it you want?"

Tyrion chuckled, "I want to ensure my birthright. I need you and your husband to do that, so I would appreciate you doing all in your power to keep yourself alive."

"Then what will you have me do?" Margaery asked sweetly.

Tyrion shrugged, "I suspect, given how you are speaking, you are already doing it. Or at least your grandmother certainly is. But there is one thing you must remember. If the White Wolf should fall, his army of wildlings are likely to fight whatever... or whomever they blame."

Margaery laughed, "Kill my own goodbrother? I haven't the slightest clue what you are talking about."

Tyrion smiled, "Yes, I'm certain you don't"

Margaery gave sweet smile, "Excuse me." She bade and turned to walk towards her room. There was only one thing she was certain of, that she would need to speak with her grandmother at once, and that, should she try to kill the Targaryen girl, she needed to stop her killing from Jon.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

A wizard is never late, nor early. He arrives precisely when he means to. I hope you like this chapter, but I'm afraid this lateness will be repeated, as I am going to Tokyo Thursday. I'm gonna try to update before then, hopefully even twice, but uh... Yeah. Vacation. I hope y'all like this chapter, it was short but sweet and I hope you like the Tyrion being back in the game thing. Next is going to be Davos, and it will involve Cersei Lannister.

To Ojha: This is the beginning of that, so I hope you like it. We'll see Jon soon. Probably at a wedding.

To CharleyAGOT: Brandon and Ashara works, but RLD doesn't because Daenerys was born nine months after Lyanna died. Thank you for reading, I'm glad you liked it so much.

To MechaJesus2: He brought down around seven thousand men from Karstark and five thousand from the Wildlings under Tormund in addition to a half dozen giants when he fought the war for the North. After Moat Cailin and Winterfell were reclaimed, another six thousand decided to come to his side from their settlement in the Gift, another twenty went to his side.

To nappus: So, yes, but grief is a strange thing, and I thought that, given her situation, she may well be out of grief.

To Fejstroll: Thanks!


	50. Davos III

**Davos**

Davos looked at the pile of papers on his desk, cursing. He felt himself wishing for the princess' help, but knew she had to be kept safe in the island fortress of Dragonstone. He knew eventually he would need to call for someone to help, likely his son.

He heard a sudden rushed knock on the door, and went to open it with a sigh. He found his son shouting frantically, "Father! He's here! We should run, sail away!"

Davos raised a hand, "Come now, son, calm down. Now who is it that's here?"

"The Young Wolf," his son reported, fear in his eyes. Davos ran.

He made his way to the porch of the city, and leaned over the railing to see the great host assembled outside the walls. The gray stark banner flew in a hundred places, standing next to the green of the Tyrells and the blue of the Tullys. Davos looked up the walls to see the burning stag stand against the tide, proudly defending the last day's conquest. Davos swallowed, and ran to the gates.

When he arrived, a knight turned to him, "They've sent a party for parlay." he reported, dutifully. Davos nodded, and signaled for his son and ser Swann to follow him.

They rode out of the gates of Duskendale with an honor guard, riding along the clear field that bordered the town, watching as the party came closer. As they came into view, Davos' gaze went to the man wearing an Iron crown who took the lead, next to a dornish man and a number of northmen. They got ever closer, Davos only looking away at the caw of a raven flying in overhead to the castle.

They met, and Davos gave a small bow, "Your grace, my lords, I am Davos Seaworth, hand of King Stannis Baratheon, this is my son, Devin, and Ser Balon Swann of the Kingsguard."

The red haired man frowned, "A pleasure, lord Seaworth. I am King Robb Stark, King in the North and the Trident. This is Prince Oberyn Martell, brother of Prince Doran of Dorne."

Davos gave a small nod to the dark skinned man before Robb spoke again, "We expected to be meeting with Lannisters, I see you have beaten us here."

Davos nodded, "Aye, we did. We took the town last night by sea."

"We had heard the 'king' was here," Oberyn commented.

"Aye, he was." Davos said, "That is why ser Balon accompanies me today."

"Then what became of the boy?" the King in the North asked the kingsguard.

The man looked troubled, "The queen took her son's life as I defended the tower from the invaders." he admitted, hanging his head in shame.

Davos put a hand on the man's shoulder, giving him a look which gave as much comfort as he could muster, before speaking to the crowned man again, "After the fight I ordered the men to kip up here and wait from word from the king."

Prince Oberyn looked amused, "You do not speak like a hand of the king of westeros."

Davos wasn't certain if that was meant to be an insult, but he decided it would probably be best if he didn't take it as such, "I was born the son of a crabber, milord."

The prince smiled, "Ah, so you are the smuggler who Stannis likes so much."

Davos bowed, "Aye, my lord. He gave me my lordship when I brought my ship in during the siege of Storm's End."

There was a distant groan of metal and Davos turned to see the gates open once more to let a single rider forth on a swift stallion.

"Who is this?" Robb asked.

"Sorry, your grace, can't say I rightly know." Davos admitted and watched as the man approached them. When he finally arrived he rode up to Davos, a white parchment in hand.

"Lord Hand, sir, a letter!" the man, apparently a squire, said.

"Right, well, give it here." Davos said briefly. The man gave him the paper and he looked down, trying to decipher the script. He read as well as he could, but struggled.

"Lord Davos?" the voice of Robb came suddenly.

He looked up to see the annoyed look on the man's face, "Sorry, your grace, I have trouble reading the words."

"You cannot read?" came the voice of the prince of Dorne.

"No, my lord, I was born to a crabber's son." he admitted, having given up, "The princess tries to teach me, but..."

His son picked up the parchment, reading it briefly before his eyes widened, "Father, King Stannis..."

"What about the king?"

He swallowed, looking fearfully at the party gathered before him, "He's dead, father. Killed while fighting Lancel Lannister's army. The Stormlords are going home."

Davos' eyes widened at the news. He stood there, struck with amazement from the revelation, before the King coughed, "I'm sorry, Lord Davos. I know he was your friend."

"Tha...thank you, your grace." He managed eventually. He couldn't believe it. Stannis? Dead? I didn't think it was possible.

Prince Oberyn decided to broach the subject of their meeting, "Given that you no longer have a king to fight for, will we still be sieging this fortress, or will you let us go in?"

"Go in, my lord?" Davos managed, struggling to come to, looking at the vast army, "I do not believe I could stop you."

The party of lords departed back to their respective camps, and Davos rode into Duskendale with his son in tow. He looked at the young man, "Order the men into the castle yard, I'll announce the passing of the king there."

His son looked at him wide eyed, "Father, is that wise? If they hear Stannis is dead they will go home."

Davos looked incredulously at his son, "You suggest I let these men fight and die in the name of a dead man? In the name of a lie?"

"Father, it's the only way." his son begged, but Davos would have none of it.

He went to the raised dais that marked the precipice to the castle and ordered the men to be assembled. Most came in armor, expecting a fight with the army ready to attack the castle, "I have bad news." Davos announced, "The king is dead." the crowd began to grow into an uproar, many shouting accusations about the red witch and her killing him in the night, but Davos shouted over them, "He fell in combat, during a battle with the army of Lancel Lannister."

The men continued shouting, and Davos gave orders to allow in the armies of King Robb. Ser Balon turned to him, "Do you intend to have them fight for the northerners, now?"

He looked at the knight, "No, I intend to have them fight for Princess Shireen."

Ser Balon said nothing, looking to the train of soldiers beginning to enter Duskendale. Eventually he said, "And who will I protect now?"

Davos didn't have an answer for that.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes<strong>:

Tell me what I did wrong here, I was sick as heck when I wrote it. So there's probably way bad stuff in there. Also, I hope y'all forgive the lack of Cersei, that will be next chapter which will be her POV. For followers of my other story, there will be five chapters released in quick succession next week, which will mean a slow week for this one.

To MechaJesus2: So there was a weird typo in the last chapter, but I fixed it. Yeah, that would be stupid, but at least at the beginning when she seems to be plotting that, she just wasn't really thinking it through.

To Fejstroll: Thanks man!


	51. Cersei I

**Cersei**

Mist was swirling around her. Black, like a night without a moon, and menacing like a wolf's howl in the night. Faces formed and dissipated in the vortex. She saw a man, battered and broken, a wound in his back, blond hair flowing down his head, turned away from her. _Jaime,_ she asked the darkness, _have you returned to me?_ The face swirled and she saw in his eyes nothing but hate and rage, his mouth twisted into a cruel frown.

She screamed at the shape, and it dissipated into cacophony, only to be replaced by the dead, lifeless gaze of a blond haired king, tongue black and golden hair marred by his own vomit. _Joffrey, my son my precious boy, come back to me,_ she begged the darkness but the face only twisted into the menacing snout of a wolf, whose golden eyes pierced her gaze. She screamed and cursed, and more the image resolved into the furious gaze of a young lady, who opened her mouth a spat water at her. When she blinked away the liquid, she found herself staring at the laughing face an old woman, and heard only the word Valonqar repeated over and over as the ghosts of her past raised daggers at her. Cersei shut her eyes.

"Cersei Lannister, your grace." came a voice from the darkness. Cersei opened her eyes to see a flame haired young man looking at her, an Iron Crown on his head.

She laughed mirthlessly, "So the King in the North has come to avenge his father."

Robb Stark glared at her, speaking in a low, commanding voice, "I came to learn what you know about the movements of your father."

"My father." she spat the words out, "My father isn't worth the golden shits everyone thinks he takes. He wasn't there to save Jaime, he wasn't here when they came to kill my son."

"You killed your son." the man's face contorted into the wolf.

She laughed again, "_They_ killed my son. That damned Stannis and Eddard."

The king looked furious, "If you dare insult my father again..."

"Your father? What of your father? He was a fool, and Joffrey killed him for it." she said merrily, "He saw too much, just like your brother when Jaime threw him from the tower."

The wolf growled, "I should kill you now."

"Kill me? Yes, I imagine that would make you happy. That would be two Lannisters, yes?" she laughed, but felt the madness in her eyes, "Like you killed my golden twin."

"Jaime Lannister died a coward."

"Jaime was a golden knight!" Cersei countered.

"Do you know what he did?" the wolf asked, fangs bloody, "Before he died? The last thing he did was run my mother through with a sword. Had they told you that?"

Cersei swore at the beast, "You are lying!" she shouted.

"I didn't kill the kingslayer, but I wish I did." the wolf howled furiously, "I wish I had my direwolf tear him to pieces, I wish I had his head put on a spike like you put my father's. I wish I could have returned every pain your family has put on mine twice over to him. But I had to be satisfied with leaving his body to flow away in the river, his face in the mud and a dagger in his back."

The woman collapsed into sobs. When she looked back at the beast, she saw the unforgiving glare of Jaime, "Jaime.. Jaime our son, they killed our son. I tried to stop them, I swear I did."

"Your grace?" she barely registered from the background, but she ignored it and watched at the golden figure rose and snapped back into the red haired boy.

She turned to see the figures of her Kingsguard and the man who came in during the siege, "Keep her in here. After we take King's Landing we'll put her in public judgment."

The three left behind a closed door, and Cersei looked out the small window of her room. She laughed, looking at it, deciding she should get fresh air. Yes, she just needed fresh air, that was it. She put her legs out of the window, and huddled herself to see the smoldering town. She looked down and saw the great height to ground. She remembered the place in Casterly rock, a secret alcove she and Jaime would sneak to to partake in their trysts.

She sighed at the happy memory, and she was back there. She breathed in and smelled the sea salt of the Rock again. She looked at the waves crashing into the side of the mountain, remembering how she had always wondered what it looked like down there. Her father had banned her from ever looking. But they were only a little way down, from here. If only she could soar down. She turned around, and saw the imp standing there, giving an evil grin at her.

Then she realized, she had grown wings. Beautiful little golden wings, so she could touch the sky. She laughed, giddy, knowing freedom was so close. She would fly away, and find where her golden lion was. Yes, she would be reunited with him one again. She smiled at the realization, but looked back at the imp, who was coming closer, with his hands trained at her throat. She gave another look at the sea slick rocks, and decided to finally see them.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

This is dark, eh? And short because it was supposed to be part of the last chapter but transitions are hard.

To Fejstroll: She's up to literally killing herself, as it happens.

To MechaJesus2: Maybe? I'm not really certain. At this point we're gonna get a slew of Margaery and Robb and Davos, then a few Edrics and probably a Tyrion or two, but Jon may be in there somewhere, I haven't decided.


	52. Barristan I

**Barristan**

The Unsullied were all but gone. Less than three hundred remained, after the last attack. _Damn the dornish, damn their treachery._ The army, or what was left of it, had been spending their days hiding in the dunes and hills of Dorne, harassing all they could find, stealing for food and water. It was only recently he decided to go west.

Barristan looked as his soldiers, knowing he needed to stop soon. Their form was, as always, impeccable, but he learned to read past their careful visage and notice when they were too tired to continue. Grey Worm was still leading the remnants, determined to continue, but he raised a hand at him in a familiar signal to stop at the next point they found.

Barristan looked wistfully at the Red Mountains, looming overhead. He had sent off a detachment to go this way under him, while ordering another to follow the path north. He had hoped the dornish would be fool enough to follow them, thinking he was returning to his home keep of harvest hall. _I wish I were, but my Queen needs me._

He had intercepted reports from a castle they had found near abandoned that Queen Daenerys was being held in Pyke. Why she went there, he didn't know. What he did know was that he would need a ship to get there. With Plankytown and Sunspear both blocked by many thousand spears, he knew of only one port large enough in western Dorne to house a boat that would take him the way he needed to go. _Starfall, gods if Arthur could see me now._

It was another week before they spotted the glistening castle, and more importantly, the docks below. Barristan knew they were too far out to make out the ships there, as the sun shining off the palestone tower made outshone the sun. Grey Worm rode next to him, saying "We are out of water."

"Completely?" Baristan asked.

"The last skin was finished when we came over the last dune." Grey Worm faithfully answered.

_Damnit._ "We'll be at Starfall soon, we can resupply there." _I hope._

They took another hour before they came to the gates of the keep, his men sweating freely in the heat. _Damnit, I need them to stay alive._

Barristan and Grey Worm rode in front of the gates, and the gatekeeper called out, "Who approaches Starfall's gates?"

Barristan answered in a commanding tone, "I am Ser Barristan Selmy, Lord Commander of the Queensguard of Daenerys Targaryen. Open this gate, and allow my men to rest and recover from a long journey."

There was silence for a long while, and Barristan was prepared to give the familiar order to his men to attempt to storm the keep and take supplies they desperately needed and continue on their journey, when the gates came shuddering open. Ser Barristan was surprised, but regained himself quickly, only to find a boy riding towards them. It took until the boy was a few feet from him that he recognized Edric, the squire of Beric Dondarrion.

"Lord Edric," he greeted cordially.

"Ser Barristan," he replied, with a frown, "Forgive me, I am travel weary."

"As am I. As are my men." he countered, with a determined look.

The boy nodded, "I know, I have received word of your travels. It seems Prince Doran does not like your presence in his lands."

The knight nodded, "Aye, given how he has been harassing my men with an army easily five stronger for each of my men, I rather grew to suspect it." He was never this artlessly witty, but Barristan was desperate.

The boy swallowed, "I am under orders from my liege lord that I should close my gates to you and fight you to the bitter end." the young man began.

Ser Barristan frowned, "I see."

"But," the boy tried, clearly unskilled at diplomacy. _A small wonder, last time I saw him he had been hiding behind Lord Dondarrion's coattails._ "We seem to have the same goals."

Barristan couldn't help but chuckle at the boy's attempt at intrigue, "Tell me what you mean quickly, lad. Or we'll all die of thirst."

Edric looked upset, "I need to go to Pyke. I'll let you into my castle, give you supplies, and sail with you to the fortress, under the condition that you protect me during the journey there."

Barristan raised an eyebrow, "What do you want in Pyke?"

"My cousin, Jon Stark, is there, along with your Queen." the boy was truly trying.

Baristan nodded, "And you want my men to act bodyguard in case you are harassed by pirates?"

The boy nervously nodded, and Barristan continued, "Why should they be an issue with the Stark having taken the Isles?"

"I was harassed on my way here." the lad admitted, "We barely escaped them." he seemed to not want to recall the memory.

"You sailed here from where, exactly?" Ser Barristan wanted more information before he accepted the lad's offer.

"Crackclaw Point, ser, from the camp of King RObb Stark." the young man reported, with some pride in his voice as he said so. _The lad thinks highly of being in the employ of the Young Wolf. He is green, yet._

But he had said something interesting. Barristan knew Daenerys had been captured by the Stark, but he didn't know that he was the cousin of Edric. Wasn't Jon Eddard Stark's bastard?

Barristan suddenly understood. He thought of his old friend Arthur again. _What would've he said? Would've he killed his own nephew?_ Barristan was certain he wouldn't, and he knew he owed it to his friend to see his nephew alive.

Barristan smiled, "Very well, I accept."

"There is one more thing." the boy said quickly.

"And that is?" Barristan said, suspicious again.

The boy hesitated, before answering, "I need you to steal Dawn."

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

Sorry these last few have been so short, but they've been necessary. Yes, Edric sailed all the way to Starfall. If anyone's wondering why Edric needed Barristan to steal Dawn, it's so he didn't have to claim it himself and could give it to Jon so he could be the Sword of the Morning. So there you go.

To MechaJesus2: eyup. She took a long walk of a short pier... or, a window, as it happens. She kinda went super batshit at the end there.

To Fejstroll: She needed to go, and I thought it would be fitting that in the end the prophecy she feared so much would turn out to be untrue. You know, somehow it works. As for that mistake, I was hoping you wouldn't "c" the mistake. HA! get it? Cuz I forgot a ah screw it.

To CharlyAGOT: Well the primary issue is she'd be a year younger than she says she is, which would really be weird given how young she apparently was when she gave birth the first time. But I suppose it's not impossible, I just didn't end up going with it, you know? Also, your english is perfect, and thank you for reading my story despite language barriers. That's kinda awesome.


	53. Arya IV

**Arya**

The Stark bannered party entered the keep through the opened gate of Riverrun, and Arya looked at the man who had so much said about him for the first time. He certainly didn't _look_ like a stark, with his long flowing silver hair and his lilac, almost blue eyes. Arya immediately decided she didn't like him.

Lady Margaery smiled her sweet smile, which didn't bother Arya like it used to. She still thought it was a farce, but now she thought it a useful one, one that helped her as much as it added to her appearance of the mother with her round belly. She spoke in her melodic voice, "Lord Targaryen, welcome to Riverrun."

He studied her, "Lady Stark, it is good to meet you." He dismounted, and two guards followed him closely.

"Allow me to introduce you to your cousin, Arya Stark." she said politely.

He walked over to Arya, bowing, "Lady Arya."

"I'm not a lady," she countered.

He smirked, "And I'm not a lord." He looked wistfully, "Not anything, anymore."

Lady Margaery's smile was undaunted, "There are chambers prepared for you, Lord Targaryen, and you are invited to sup with us later in the evening."

He turned to her, "Chambers? I've never had chambers before. At least, I don't remember it." He had a smile that hid a sadness, which Arya found unsettling.

He was escorted out of the way towards the keep in the center of Riverrun, and Lady Margaery went to Arya's side, "Well?"

"What?"

"What did you think of him?" her goodsister asked sweetly.

Arya shrugged, "He isn't a Stark." she said eventually.

She smiled, "No, he isn't. But he's family nonetheless." she seemed unconvinced by her own words, but politely made her way towards her own chamber, leaving Arya in the courtyard.

Arya busied herself the rest of the day, practicing with Brienne and talking with Gendry as he fashioned horse shoes. Then a servant sent by her goodsister appeared announcing supper's fast approach. Arya sighed, and walked her way to her rooms where she changed from her riding clothes into more formal wear. She knew once, not long ago, she would have only done this kicking and screaming, but now doing so seemed childish. _Afterall, I'm only doing it so Robb's wife doesn't hate me._

The small hall was decked in it's normal grandiosity, and Arya instinctively made her way to the head of the table, next Margaery and her brother, when she noticed, sitting directly across from her, was the man from before.

She stood staring at him, only stopping when Margaery arrived in the room, arm in arm with the King of the Reach, "Ah, Arya, sweetling, please, sit down."

She sat down in her seat, staring at her white haired cousin. He looked at her and eventually smiled, "Well I should think myself humbled." He said with a smirk.

Arya was taken aback, "What do you mean?" she demanded.

"That such a lovely lady should pay such notice to me," he said with a wink.

"I'm not a..." she began to counter but Margaery interrupted her.

"Arya, sweetling, you have a letter from your brother, Jon." Margaery said, placing a roll of parchment by her side after receiving it from a servant. Arya used the distraction, reading the letter quickly.

_Dear Arya,_

_In two moons' turn I am to be married. I had hoped to have the ceremony in Seaguard or Riverrun so you might attend, and meet Daenerys. You would like her. She's smart and willful, but she doesn't like sewing. I was told Robb has almost finished this war, I hope we will all be able to see each other again soon._

_Jon_

Arya looked up from the letter to see Aegon's unwavering, concerned gaze, "Jon is your other brother, then?"

Arya scowled, "Why do you care?"

Aegon frowned, "I want to know my family."

"We're not family." she said with finality that caused Margaery to turn and give her a sympathetic smile.

"Arya, could you come with me for a second?" her goodsister asked kindly.

The two Stark woman left the small hall and found themselves in a small corridor, where the elder turned heel and looked her goodsister in the face, "Arya, you must be kinder."

Arya scowled, "Why?"

"Because he is family, even if you don't believe it." she said firmly, "And because he is the third in line to the throne."

"What?" Arya hadn't even thought about that.

"Yes, and both of your brothers are busy fighting for the crown, which means that both are in grave danger, which of course means that this cousin has the best claim on the throne of the north as well as the south." the woman said.

Arya still looked upset, "I don't like him."

Margaery sighed, "Please, Arya, for..." her eyes suddenly widened, and she had a panicked look on her face, "Arya?"

"Yes?" she replied, her voice wavering from the sudden shock.

"Get the maester." She ordered,reaching out a hand to balance herself on a nearby desk.

Arya ran into the middle of the small hall, where Aegonwas looking... sad, she supposed, and Willas was chatting idally with the various men of the castle. "Maester, she needs a maester!" Arya called into the hall.

Willas got to his feet, "Jacquen, get the midwife, Robter, go get the master, Genna, get water and clean sheets. Everyone else, attend the Queen!" he ordered the staff of the castle suddenly, before turning foot, "Arya, sit down here, best we stay out of the way." he said kindly, but firmly.

Arya sat back down at her place, where Aegon turned to look at her, his saddend expression replaced with a look of curiosity, "Is it the baby?" Arya nodded, and he replied, "That's... wonderful."

"Another cousin for you, Aegon." Willas said, attempting joviality to mask his uncertainty.

Aegon nodded, "More family to meet."

Arya scowled at that, "There was more of us before."

"Before?" Aegon tried.

"The war." she said, "They killed my father and my mother and my sister and my brothers Bran and Rickon."

Aegon swallowed, "I'm sorry."

"They weren't your family." Arya said bitterly.

Aegon looked dejected again, "No, they weren't." he sighed, "I never knew my family. I thought for years my mother was a dornish woman killed by the Lannisters, but now I know I was the child of a Stark woman."

"That doesn't make you a Stark." she replied, angrily.

Aegon gave a sad smile, "I never knew my father, your father's best friend killed him before I was born. The only man I every really thought of as a father, your brother killed in the middle of battle."

Arya's conviction wavered, "I... I'm sorry"

Aegon shook his head, "It's alright, princess. I had just hoped..." he shook his head again.

The rest of the time passed in silence as the two cousins looked at each other, only to stop when a sevant ran into the room hours later, "A prince! The Queen has given birth to the prince!"

The royal family stood and walked towards the room which contained a sweating Margaery, holding a bundled, red haired babe. Arya and Willas were the first to approach the bed, where Arya said in a hushed voice, "He looks like Robb."

The Queen in the North smiled, "His name is Eddard, after his grandfather." she held the babe so Arya could better see him.

Willas smiled in relife, "He's beautiful Margie." he said and kissed her forehead.

It was only then that Arya noticed Aegon's pressence in the room, and he said in a hush, "Hello, Eddard."

Margaery smiled, and the babe began fussing, "He's hungry" she said with an amused smile on her face. The wetnurse came and gently picked up prince Eddard before following the way out of the castle.

Then, much to her surprise, Tyrion Lannister made an apperance, "A handsome prince, your grace, named for the most honorable man I have ever met."

Margaery thanked him lightly, then the party left the queen to get her rest. Aegon turned to the small Lannister, "I never heard that Eddard Stark was honorable."

Tyrion looked surprised, "He was famous for it." Aegon looked incredilous, and Tyrion smirked, "You want to know how an honorable man could kill your father?"

Aegon frowned, "My grandfather was mad, but my father?" he shook his head.

"Your grandfather stole his sister, did nothing when the mad king killed your grandfather and uncle, and called for his head on a pike." Tyrion almost chuckled, "Honor is meaningless in war, and dangerous when others are dishonorable."

Aegon seemed to think about this, and Arya gave him a glance. They held each other's gaze for a while beforedeparting to their rooms.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

Delayed, but I think pretty good. Arya and Aegon will be a new dynamic to be explored.

To Ojha: Eventually!

To MechaJesus2: Maybe, but he will be interesting


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